Once Upon A Time
by Charlene Edwards
Summary: The Bat Family (and a few others from the DCU) are living in Pre-Arthurian Britain. Young Sir Richard of Wayne must face off against the evil Court Jester who has kidnapped Princess Barbara to save not only his princess but his family as well.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Once Upon a Time ...  
Author: Charlene Edwards  
Rating: PG-13  
Synposis: AN Elseworlds by DC's definition taking the familiar hero's and placing them in different times and situations.  
Feedback: positive on list welcome.

I hope you all enjoy this. Thanks to Robin for beta'ing this for me. Char :-)

Once upon a time ...

_Britain__ was a new country, freshly out of the ruling hand of __Rome__. While the Roman conquerors had left the land, new invaders threatened the shores. Yet, the internal strife amongst the inhabitants of Britannia was more threatening than any outside force. But, for a time, a great High King brought peace and security to the land. This is his story..._

"Uncle Alfred, the palace is immense, and I thought Castle Wayne was large," the young Duke of Wayne said entering the palace of the High King of Gotham, his eyes wide with awe. It had been his first trip to the city of Gotham since his parent's deaths many years ago.

"Indeed my lord Bruce, King James' castle is quite large, it is more than simply a castle, it is the power seat of the country. A retinue of nobles and knights live here. It is not like our home which is for our family and a few knights in our company. But our home is sufficient."

"Sufficient? As you say Uncle," Bruce stated with a hearty laugh. He was taking in all the wonders of the great castle. They stopped for a moment watching the king's new jester entertaining the crowd.

"Enjoyable, isn't it young Bruce?"

"Very much so Uncle," turning toward the older man, he asked, "Why did I get to come with you to Gotham this time Uncle?"

"It's going to be a grand ceremony Bruce, one a young noble shouldn't miss. King James' marriage to the Lady Sarah. The nobles are quite pleased with this match. When the Queen died last year, the nobles worried because the King had no heirs. With this new marriage, there's a chance for an heir. Heirs are important Bruce."

Bruce rolled his eyes at his uncle's talk of heirs. He had a feeling he knew where this conversation was going. He let out an audible sigh.

"Now Bruce," Alfred began, "this is your twentieth year. It's more than time that you seriously considered a match. After all, you are the Duke of Wayne. I have merely served as your regent until you came of age. You ARE of age, young sir, it's time you remembered that and accepted your responsibilities. And producing heirs is part of a young noble's responsibilities."

"But Uncle Alfred, I don't want to marry for position, power or to produce heirs. I want to marry for love. Like my parents."

Alfred's stern expression softened. His elder brother Thomas' death had been hard on Bruce. Alfred knew that Bruce's losing his parents at the tender age of six made him romanticize his memories of them. And Alfred did so love the lad. It was these reasons that caused him to reluctantly, at times, give in to Bruce's whims.

"Love is certainly an honorable objective. But you must first look for it. I'd dare say, you are more likely to find love here at the King's marriage ceremony than jousting with our knights and riding that horse of yours through our forests as fast as you can."

Bruce laughed at his uncle. He knew all Alfred's statements were true. "Perhaps then, dear uncle, I'll meet my bride here."

"One can hope," Alfred replied.

As they continued walking, Alfred saw a gathering of nobles and headed off into their company. Bruce smiled and took the opportunity to wander around without his guardian's ever guarding presence. Sometimes his uncle forgot, despite his height of more than six feet, that he was fast becoming one of the best young knights in the realm and wasn't much in the need of guarding. Bruce saw the jester's performance from across the courtyard. Keeping his eyes on the mesmerizing performance rather than where he was going, he bumped into a young woman, his weight knocking her to the ground.

"Oh milady," he said as he bent to help her up, "I'm terribly sorry. I wasn't watching where I was heading. I hope you aren't hurt. Please forgive me." This last part came out of his mouth in a whisper as he stared into the most amazingly green eyes he had ever seen.

"Thank you for helping me up, Sir," the young woman said. "I'm afraid that I wasn't watching where I was going either. The court jester does put on a show," the dark haired beauty laughed.

The sound of her laughter was the most wonderful sound he thought he had ever heard. His heart was pounding in his chest. No other young woman had ever held him in such a spell. Finding his voice, he spoke, "May I have the pleasure of your name?"

"I am Selina, the Lady of Lionesse."

"Lionesse? Why, then we are neighbors. Our lands boarder each other. I am Bruce, Lord Wayne."

"You? The Duke? I would have thought the Duke a much older man," she said as they started to walk along together.

"I've technically been the Duke since I was six, when my parents died," he said. She noticed the wistfulness in his voice as he spoke. There was such a sad tone at the mention of his parents. But it changed quickly as he continued. "But my Uncle Alfred's really the Duke in all but name. I suppose I will be eventually. He hopes for me to assume more of my duties now, rather than be the errant dark knight as he calls me."

"The dark knight. How menacing that sounds. But you don't seem very menacing."

"You haven't seen me on the battlefield, m'lady," he said with a crooked half smile.

"That is something I think I would very much like to see," she replied.

_Later that week, the Lady Selina had her opportunity to see the Dark Knight in action. Tournaments in honor of the King's marriage were held. The Young Duke quickly dispatched all opposition in the early competitions. His prowess for the field of battle or competition was awe inspiring. No sword was as quick as the young noble's. Selina had watched the young knight throughout the week. And Bruce, Lord Wayne, had watched her watching him._

_As the weeks end drew near, it was time for the main competition the jousting tourney _

The Young Duke rode his black steed around the jousting ring as the crowd cheered. He sought a particular spectator. When he saw the young woman, her long dark tresses which fell over her shoulders were striking against the green dress she wore. The dress accented her emerald eyes. Placing his heels into the horse, he galloped over to her box.

"Mi'lady, here to watch me win?"

"Are you so certain you will win?" she replied with a soft laugh.

"Absolutely," he responded. the sound of his voice told her it was cool certainty and not a false bravado he exuded.

She smiled at him, then, taking the sash from around her waist, she leaned over toward him. Selina tied the sash around his forearm. "Then win the tournament for me."

Bruce smiled as he looked at her. "I'll gladly wear your token, mi'lady, and win for you. I would ... die ... for you." Bruce couldn't believe the words that escaped his lips. He certainly shouldn't be talking to a lady in such a fashion. They barely knew each other, yet, his heart told him different.

Selina didn't know how to respond to Bruce's statement. She felt the heat rising to her fair cheeks. She watched as he pulled the reins of his horse and galloped away to prepare for the joust.

She watched as the tournament began. Watched as he rode his great black steed against the other jousters. Lord Bruce took ever combatant, knocking them from their horses. After the tournament, she watched as he rode to her box and presented her with the winner's banner.

_Soon, the Lady Selina and Bruce, Lord Wayne married, uniting their lands and their hearts. His uncle, Alfred, proudly and happily stepped aside as regent so that his young nephew could began exersing his duties as Duke and lord over both his and the Lady Selina's lands. Oh, Alfred was ever ready to lend assistance or advice when called upon by the man who had once been his charge, but he was content to live a life of ease with his wife, the Lady Leslie._

Bruce entered his private chambers, returning from a High Council meeting in Gotham. Silently, he walked over to the sleeping Selina and sat on the bed. At the change of weight to the bed, she stirred,

"Bruce?"

"Hello my love," he responded as he leaned over kissing her gently. Then, with a worried tone, asked, "Are you ill? You usually don't sleep this late in the afternoon."

"I'm fine. More than fine actually. I've some news," she beamed.

"What? What is your news? I've been gone a week, what have you done?" he said playfully.

She took his hand in hers, and moved it to her middle, "I am with child."

"With... you're going to... we're going to have a child?" His mind reeled with the information, as his eyes drank in the sight of her. He felt a happiness at this moment that he had never felt before. "Does Uncle Alfred know? He'll be happy. He's been wanting me to have heirs since I turned eighteen," Bruce laughed.

Alfred watched as Bruce paced through the great hall as if he were a caged tiger. Passing back and forth in front of the rich tapestries lining the castle's stone walls. Bruce had never been good at waiting.

"I just don't understand," Bruce bellowed as he paced, "why I can't be in there with her?"

"Because it's simply not done," Alfred responded.

"But why?"

"Because your aunt Leslie says so."

Bruce sighed as he stopped his pacing, accepting the gentle defeat his uncle had just accomplished. "But it's my child, I want to be there when he's born."

"He, Lad?"

"I'll have a son. Of that, I'm sure."

Leslie entered the great hall and saw her husband and nephew speaking near the fireplace. She smiled and walked toward them. "The child is born," she announced when she was closer to the two men.

Bruce turned to her expectantly, his heart rate quickening. "Well,"

She laughed at him. He had always been impatient. That was a trait he hadn't grown out of. "You have a son."

"Son, I have a son. I have a son!" he said as he ran from the hall and up the stairs of the castle, a wide grin on his face. Reaching his bedchamber, he ran past the serving women leaving the room with dirty linens. Reaching the bed, he looked down upon his wife and newborn son.

Selina smiled up at her husband. Proudly, she showed him the small bundle in her arms. Bruce sat on the edge of the bed, his fingers tracing the small child's features. Placing his finger near the child's hand, the baby grabbed the finger, wrapping his small fingers tightly around his father's.

"He is strong."

"And perfect," Selina replied. "He looks like you, dark hair and blue eyes."

"Is that a good thing?"

"Most assuredly, husband," she laughed lightly. Looking at her husband she asked, "So what shall we name him? Thomas or Bruce?"

"Richard John," he replied as he watched her reaction. He saw her green eyes soften as she looked down at the baby. He smiled at her.

"Richard. After my father. Hello there Richard," she cooed to the baby.

_The baby grew quickly, the joy of his parents and his elderly uncle and aunt. Soon, Richard was joined by his brothers Jason Thomas and Timothy Alfred. But it was Richard who was his father's favorite. Lord Bruce tried not to make a difference in his children. He loved them all dearly. But Richard was special. Perhaps because he was the oldest, perhaps because they were so much alike, or perhaps for other reasons, Bruce couldn't help his desire to spend time with his eldest son._

_And Richard grew strong and athletic. Gifted in tumbling and all manner of sports. Lord Bruce knew Richard would be a great knight one day, and an even better ruler. He made it a habit from Richard's early days to have the boy sit with him as he dispensed justice over his lands._

_But life at Castle __Wayne__ wasn't always happy. A dark cloud fell upon the family in Richard's ninth year. A cloud that would cast long shadows over their lives. It began in the city of __Gotham_

Richard, Jason and Timothy ran through the courtyard of the great castle of the high king. This was their first visit to the great capital of their land. Bruce and Selina smiled at their children's laughter. The High Council was meeting, all the lords from around the country were gathered. A carnival atmosphere filled the town.

"Father, mother?" Richard started as he and his brothers ran up to their parents.

"What?" Bruce asked in his best baronial tone.

"Can we go watch the jugglers?" Richard asked.

"Please," the seven year old Jason added.

Bruce turned to Selina and then back to their children. He eyed his youngest son who was somewhat hidden behind his brothers. Bruce bent down and pulled Timothy from between the older two. Looking at the five year old, he asked,

"Is that what you want to do too?"

"Yes," the little voice responded.

"Well, since it's unanimous," he stopped and tried to contain a half-smile that started forming when he read on their faces their lack of understanding unanimous. he finished his sentence, "you can all go. But meet in our quarters in a few hours."

The three boys ran off into the crowd as their parents watched them.

"Do you think they'll be all right?" Selina asked.

"Of course, darling. The king's palace is one of the safest places in the land."

"You have to go to the High Council now?"

"Yes my love, duty calls, I'm afraid. I hate leaving you though."

She smiled up at her husband, "I'll be fine, darling. You go ahead. I'm going to our quarters to rest from the trip."

Bruce kissed her passionately before he took his leave and left her alone to travel to their rooms. As she walked she had the feeling she was being watched. She turned, but saw no one. Selina continued onwards.

The corridor heading to her chambers was dark and lonely. No one stirred. They were all outside partaking of the celebrations. Yet, Selina still had the uneasy feeling she wasn't alone. She felt like an animal being stalked. She started walking faster, trying to get to her room.

Then she heard it. Footsteps. Behind her. Selina picked up her long purple dress and ran towards her rooms. Breathless she reached her door and opened it. Quickly entering the room, she spun around to close the heavy wooden door. She almost had it closed when a thin pale hand caught it, preventing it from closing.

Frantic, Selina pushed with all her might to try and close the door. But she couldn't. The man in the hall was stronger than she was. He pushed the door open. Selina fell backwards. The man wore white paste on his face. He leered at her with a hideous grin.

"Bruce!" she screamed knowing he couldn't hear her, but willing him to feel her need for him. Her desperate cry for help. "No, please, NOOOOOOOO!"

"Jason, Timothy," young Richard called his brothers to him. The two younger boys ran to their brother, "Father said we had to go back to our quarters," he said trying to sound as much like their father as he could.

"You're not our leader," Jason said defiantly.

"Yes I am," Richard said authoritatively, "aren't I Tim?"

"Yes," Tim said shaking his head.

"I'm our leader Tim," Jason added.

"Yes," Tim said shaking his head.

The two older brothers started to laugh, as they started walking toward their rooms pulling their youngest brother behind them. As they approached their rooms, they heard a different sound. They heard muffled screams. Their mother's screams. This unusual sound stopped the three in their tracks. A cold chill went down their spines.

Richard bent down to Timothy and whispered, "Go get Father."

Little Timothy nodded and ran as quickly as he could to search for their father. A few tears of fear escaped his blue eyes.

Richard and Jason approached the door and slowly opened it. They saw their mother on the floor, struggling with a man who was on top of her. Richard felt an anger boil in his young body.

Imitating his father's tone again, he said "Let her go."

The white faced man turned to face the boys. His laughter echoed through the halls. "Children. Run away," he said as he turned back toward his victim continuing to laugh.

Timothy ran into the king's council chambers, quickly moving past the guards who tried to block his way. He ran to his father.

Bruce looked down into the youngster's face. Fear was written all over it. Bruce picked up the small boy who wrapped his little arms tightly around his father's neck.

"Timothy? What's wrong?"

"Mother," Timothy weakly cried, "Mother hurt."

Bruce felt as if those two words had stabbed him in the heart. He handed the child over to his uncle Alfred as he raced from the room.

"Brother?" Jason asked.

"Let her go!" Richard yelled as he leapt at the white faced man. He used the tumbles and kicks his father had taught him as he attacked the man hurting his mother. Jason ran over and started kicking the man too.

The white faced man made a guttural noise as he rose and tossed the two boys off of him. Yet, the children were undeterred. They continued going to their mother's aid, pushing and kicking the man.

Selina's attacker heard footsteps in the hallway. He threw a chair at the two children and ran from the room.

Richard started to follow but stopped when his brother called to him. Turning around, he saw Jason at their mother's side. He ran to her and knelt down. As he did, his father entered the room.

"Selina?" Bruce said as he joined his sons on the floor by her. She was battered and bruised, her face was cut and bleeding. Bruce notice more blood on the floor, seeping around her legs. He cradled her head in his arms, "Selina."

Her hand reached up and stroked his face before she turned from his gaze. Then the sound started, the sound none of the occupants of the room would ever forget, Selina's sobs started softly and grew louder.

Bruce cradled her in his arms. As much as he wanted to be out hunting the man who had injured her, she needed him here. And he stayed. But the man who had done this would not go unpunished. Bruce's dark blue eyes hardened with rage as he made a silent vow.

"Have they found him yet?" Lord Bruce asked as he entered the King's chambers.

King James turned to face his knight and friend, a dour expression on his face. "I'm afraid not. How is the Lady Selina?"

"My aunt and the physicians are with her. I ... I don't know if she'll," he said trying to keep his conflicting emotions in check. How could his world survive without her?

**To be continued ...**


	2. Chapter 2

Here's Part 2 of my little elseworld. Thanks to Robin for beta reading for me. Hope you all enjoy! Char :-)

**_Once Upon a Time: Part 2:_**

_After the jester's savage attack on the Lady Selina, Duchess of Wayne, the king's knights searched for the court jester, as the king's physicians attended the Lady Selina. Her condition was grave. Bruce, Lord Wayne, was a man of conflicting emotions. The rage within him demanded that he seek retribution, but his family needed him to stay in __Gotham__. And his love for Selina kept him from straying from her side._

Bruce sat in the antechamber watching his children. He marveled at how stoically Richard comforted the younger boys, and he remembered how bravely the lad had fought Selina's attacker. How bravely both of his older sons had fought. If only he had gotten to the room a few moments sooner, he wouldn't have to wait for the guards to find the foul man who had ravaged his wife. The man would have been dead where he stood.

Alfred moved closer to Bruce, placing his hand on his nephew's shoulder. He knew Bruce was not a patient man, and it had been hours since there had been word on Selina's condition. He feared Bruce's reaction should he lose Selina. And right now there was nothing they could do, nothing except pray. Alfred looked up as he heard the door creaking open, he saw his wife's sad expression.

Bruce looked up as his aunt entered the room. He found he couldn't stand as he waited for word on Selina. Leslie moved past the children to Bruce, she didn't want them to overhear their conversation.

"How is she?" he asked in a low voice as Leslie stood before him.

"She'll live Bruce. But her injuries were severe. Did you know that she was with child?" Bruce's blue eyes were full of pain and confusion as he looked at his aunt. Child? He and Selina were having another child? "Was with child"? He found he had no voice as Leslie continued speaking. "She miscarried the child. It was a daughter. Bruce, she won't ... she'll never ..." Leslie couldn't finish as the tears fell from her eyes.

Bruce nodded. He understood. "May I see her, Aunt?"

Leslie nodded as he walked past her into the bedchamber. Alfred and Leslie turned to see the three frightened faces looking at them. They moved to the children to comfort and explain.

"Mother?" Timothy's young voice asked, as tears flowed from his eyes.

Leslie picked the lad up and placed him in her lap. "Your mother will be fine."

Timothy threw his small arms around his great-aunt's neck and buried his head in her shoulder. Jason let out a sigh as he moved closer to his uncle. Richard watched them all and remembered his father's face as he spoke with Leslie. He knew there was something more something they were keeping from them.

The young princess Barbara played on the outskirts of the castle near the river. She skipped along skimming stones across the water's surface. As she played, a thin, pale hand moved the leaves so that the sinister figure could watch her from the underbrush. As the young child moved further away from the castle, the leering figure followed her.

He saw an opportunity to move from the bushes, to grab his prize. But, as he started, he heard the king's guards. The jester knew they were looking for him. Wayne's children had spoiled his plans. He knew he could never return to his position in the castle. He also knew that capture would mean death. Unless

Quickly, he looked around. He saw a long branch on the ground. Picking it up, he moved, still hidden in the bushes, until he was close to the princess. Quietly, he maneuvered the stick so that the princess tripped, falling into the deep river. She screamed as the rapid water dragged her downstream, against her struggles.

He saw the king's guards approaching. He knew he couldn't outrun them. So the jester made his move. Jumping into the river, he swam toward the nine year old princess. Grabbing her and pulling her from the river just as the guards reached its banks.

Bruce sat with Selina, her hand in his, as she quietly sobbed. His other hand stroked her long dark hair. The had talked as much as she could, until their was only silence between them. Silence and her sobs. Their grief needed no words.

Bruce looked up as the door slowly opened, and his uncle walked in.

"My lord, a word in private."

Bruce read the seriousness of his uncle's expression. Kissing Selina on the forehead, he left her side. "Yes, Uncle Alfred," he asked as the door shut behind them. He noticed that Leslie and the children were no longer in the antechamber.

"King James' men have captured the jester. King James wishes to see you in the Great Hall."

Alfred watched as his nephew's face hardened. Bruce grabbed his sword and left the room. His pace was almost a run. Alfred followed behind him, fear in his heart at what Lord Bruce would do.

Bruce entered the King's great hall. King James sat upon his throne. The jester stood to the side of the room surrounded by the king's guards.

"Give him to me, your Grace, and I shall mete out his punishment," Bruce said as he strode across the Hall, his hand on his sword's hilt.

"That is a request I cannot honor," the king replied.

"That you cannot? What do you mean?"

"My former jester has wronged you and your lady," King James began, "and ordinarily, I would turn him over to you for your punishment. But, today he has saved my daughter's life."

"He. Did. What?"

"Saved the life of my daughter, your princess. If not for my jester, my daughter would have drowned. For that reason, I cannot allow you to kill him."

Bruce felt rage swelling within him. "Cannot? You cannot let him go unpunished. I WILL NOT let him go unpunished!"

"Lord Bruce! I have already decided this matter," King James forcefully said as he stood and walked down toward his knight. "He shall be exiled. Never allowed to return. Life outside of our kingdom is hard. That shall be his punishment."

Bruce's eyes burned with the fire of hatred as he stared at the jester's smiling face. "If you cannot stomach it , I WILL act where you fear to!" His hand swiftly pulled his sword from it's scabbard as he started for the jester. The king's guards drew their swords and stood between the Duke and his target.

"Lord Bruce, stop!" the king shouted. "I command it!"

"Bruce!" Alfred's voice called from the door. The young noble turned toward his uncle as he stopped his advance.

The King walked closer to the young Duke. "I forbid you from harming him. My guards will take him to the borders of our county and impose his exile upon him. You will not harm him, here or elsewhere. That is my command to you. I have decided the proper punishment for the jester, you shall not countermand me, Lord Wayne."

Bruce looked at his king. Bruce had faithfully served him all of his adult life. But at this moment, he only felt disdain for him. Again he turned to his uncle. He needed the elderly man's guidance. Alfred's eyes implored him to hold his tongue and his temper. To remember his oath and his station. To not act rashly.

Motionless, he watched as the guards escorted the jester from the room. At the door the jester stopped, looking back at him with a wicked grin. The anger welled within him, yet Lord Bruce held his composure.

The room was silent.

Alfred moved to his nephew, who remained motionless in the center of the hall. "My liege," he began addressing the king, "I believe my nephew should return to chambers now."

"I believe it is time that the Duke returned to his castle," King James replied turning and leaving the room. His displeasure at the young Duke's defiance dripped from his every word.

"Come, Bruce. Let's see if Selina can travel."

"So there were two exiles this day," Bruce said softly to his uncle.

_The young Duke took his family and his retinue and returned to Castle __Wayne__. No longer was the Dark Knight the favorite of the realm. Many years passed before the Duke was invited back to the halls of __Gotham__. And when the Duke did go, he always went alone. Leaving his family at Castle __Wayne__ He never wanted to trust their safety in __Gotham__ again._

_ His sons grew strong, learning from their father the ways of a knight. Bruce and Selina seemed content, living on their lands, watching their children grow. As a Duke, Lord Bruce had the authority to knight his sons. And on their sixteenth birthdays he had knighted both Richard and Jason, sending the documentation to __Gotham__ by messenger, so their knighthoods would be enrolled in the lists of the knights._

Richard and Jason sparred in the courtyard of their home. Timothy watched his older brothers as he held onto their spare weapons. Richard's blade was swift and powerful. It only took a few moves before he had disarmed his younger brother and had him on the ground.

"Do you admit I'm your better, Jay?" Richard asked with a smile as he stood over his brother.

A wide grin formed on Jason's face as he quickly kicked his brother's legs from under him causing Richard to fall to the ground. "Never!"

Timothy laughed as he watched them. Looking down at the pair of spare swords, he grinned. Dropping one to the ground, he drew the other from it's scabbard and advanced on his brothers. "I can beat you both," he boasted.

Richard and Jason watched the fourteen year old approaching. They started laughing, then grabbed their swords and stood together.

"Squire Timothy is challenging two knights of the realm," Richard began. "Sir Jason, what shall we do with him?"

"Disarm him. Then hang him upside down in the orchard. Naked."

"Sounds like a good plan to me," Richard replied.

"No fair!" Timothy called. "I can beat you both, father's been showing me how. Just not at the same time. Let me spar with you."

Jason looked to Richard, "Should we? I mean, we ARE knights. He's just a squire."

"Alright, Squire Timothy, let's see what you can do," Richard said as he lifted his sword in mock salute at his youngest brother and moved into a position to parry with the boy.

Timothy smiled and started showing his brothers what he had been learning. Jason watched as Timothy sparred with Richard. He had to admit, the boy was quite good. But then again, their father was the best teacher. They had grown up on legends of their father's prowess as a warrior. It was no accident that all of Lord Wayne's sons would be adept at the ways of the sword.

Jason caught Richard's feint to the left. He broke out in a grin. He knew what was coming, Timothy had no clue. Timothy moved left as Richard flipped over the boy's head landing behind him, his sword in Timothy's back.

"Yield, young squire," Richard laughed.

Timothy made a face as he dropped the sword to the ground. "That's not fair!"

"Battle's never fair little brother," Richard said as he walked around to face the boy. "We're not training for fun, we train to win in battle. To live."

Jason applauded his older brother. "Sounds just like father doesn't he?"

"Uh-huh," Timothy replied.

Richard shook his head, then began some good-natured teasing of his own. "Well, one of the three of us has to have some knowledge other than using a sword - and that would be me. After all," he continued with a mock smile, "one day I'll be the Duke and you two will be my vassals. Knights in my retinue. The hired help. "

Jason and Timothy looked at each other as their elder brother continued his playful taunting. A silent idea passed between them. Turning on Richard they both advanced quickly, pouncing on him and knocking him to the ground.

Their laughter filled the courtyard.

In the Northern country the land of the Picts the former court jester had recovered from his fall, acquiring some lands and men loyal to him. Although, life in the land of the Picts was hard not the easy life he had at the Court of the King of Gotham.

Yet, his hatred for the sons of the Duke of Wayne grew with each year as his spies kept him informed of their growth and progress. One day, he would tell himself, he would make them pay. Pay for interrupting him, for spoiling his plans, for causing his exile, He would revel in their pain and feel great joy when he destroyed their lives just like the way the 'Lady' Selina should have been destroyed.

They had interrupted him. When he had enjoyed servant girls, he was never interrupted. They had dared to stop him to attack him even. He was only taking what he had a right to. Didn't he sit next to the king on the diadem even. Only he and the king. All others were less than they were. He had a right to take whomever he wished. And Wayne's sons interfered.

And while he suffered here in the barren cold wasteland of the Picts, the Dukedom of Wayne has prospered. The King's misplaced loyalty caused his exile when he had done nothing that should have been punished. He was simply taking what should be his ... something common.

The jester had lost his place of honor at the king's side. Lost it because of them. Someday they will pay tenfold for what they have done to him and he will gain tenfold what was stolen from him.

**To be continued**


	3. Chapter 3

Thanks to Robin for beta reading for me. I hope you all enjoy. Char :-)

**_ONCE UPON A TIME: PART 3:_**

_It was in Richard's nineteenth year, that a summons was received which troubled Lord Bruce. King James was summoning all the knights to __Gotham__. Bruce would have to take his eldest two sons with him. It was with a heavy heart that Lord Wayne led his sons from their home toward __Gotham_

Alfred moved toward young Timothy who watched forlornly as his father and brothers rode away from their home. He placed his hand around the boy's shoulder. "One day 'Sir' Timothy will ride off as well."

Timothy smiled as he looked up at his uncle. "But until then, 'Squire Timothy'," he said mocking his brothers' title for him, "stays at home."

"Well, we need a young knight protecting our castle. And I suppose that's your job until their return."

"I can handle that," Timothy replied with a smile.

"I never doubted that you could," Alfred replied as they turned and walked back toward Castle Wayne.

Richard and Jason mingled with the other young knights in the courtyard of the king. There were more people and excitement here than the two young knights had seen in many many years.

"Richard, look at all this," Jason said excitedly.

"I see brother. I just don't know what to do first."

Jason smiled at his older brother as he inclined his head to the left, "I think that's a good place to start."

Richard looked in the direction Jason indicated and saw three young ladies walking toward the fountain. It was the red-headed beauty in the center of the trio that caught his eye. He felt as if he couldn't breathe. He had never seen anything as beautiful as she was. Her porcelain skin, her emerald eyes she was perfect.

Jason laughed as he placed his arm around his brother's shoulder. "Richard. Richard! Would you like to move?" he continued to laugh as he waved his other hand in front of his brother's face.

"What?" Richard said, as if coming out of a dream.

"Move? Closer to the ladies."

"Yes," Richard said with a smile.

"I think you need to work on your conversation skills on the way over," Jason laughed as they headed toward the fountain.

As the brothers walked toward the fountain, the three girls saw their approach and giggled something to one another.

"Can we help you with anything, mi'ladies?" Jason began as he approached smiling at the three giggling young girls.

"Excuse my brother's rashness," Richard began as he stared intently at the beautiful red head.

Jason noticed which of the three had caught his brother's eye. There was no doubt, she was the most beautiful of the three. Then he noticed the taller of the two blondes was smiling at him.

"My brother also forgot his manners," Richard continued. "I am Sir Richard of Wayne and this is my brother Sir Jason."

The red head held her hand out to him in a graceful manner. Cautiously he took it, and gently brushed his lips against her fingers. He took in the soft floral scents of her as he did.

"We are pleased to make your acquaintance. I am Barbara, daughter of King James and these are my ladies, Dinah and Stephanie."

For the second time in a few short minutes, Richard felt as if he wasn't breathing. The Princess. The King's only child. He and Jason were both aware that part of the reason all the young knights of the realm had been summoned to Gotham was because the king was seeking to introduce his daughter to the eligible young nobles. Yet, he and Jason had met her on their own. And ... she was ... perfect.

Immediately, Richard bowed before her, her hand still in his. She smiled at his gallantry and his handsome features.

"Will you be at the celebrations in the Great Hall this evening?" she boldly asked him.

"Yes, Your Highness," he replied as he smiled at her.

"Good. We would like to see you there."

"And you my Lady Dinah?" Jason asked the blonde girl as he took her hand in his.

"Perhaps," she said with a smile.

Richard and Jason were enjoying themselves when Richard spotted their father. The Duke motioned for them to come to him. "Your Highness, Ladies, our father needs us. We will see you tonight."

With a courtly bow, the young knights took their leave of the ladies. Princess Barbara followed them with her eyes. At least, she followed the eldest of the two knights.

"Stephanie, I do believe that our Princess is infatuated with the young knight wearing the totem of the Bat."

"Which one?" the youngest of the three girls asked her older sister.

"Sir Richard. Our Princess didn't see Sir Jason," Dinah laughed. She was happy at that too, because it was Sir Jason that intrigued her.

Barbara blushed at her friend's comment and started for the castle. She stopped, glancing back at the dark haired youth who had captured her fancy.

Bruce paced around their quarters as his sons watched him. He had argued with the King at the Council meeting and was still angry about it. Alfred had told him to mind his tongue, but Lord Bruce had a hard time doing so.

"His border policies are completely inept. He has absolutely no security from the Picts to the north. The border is unpatrolled. And if I make a suggestion, he is intent on doing the opposite."

Richard looked up, daring to speak, "Why Father?"

Jason rolled his eyes as his brother broached the subject. They all knew their father and the king had problems, but they never questioned why.

Bruce stopped and looked at his eldest son. Crossing the room, he placed his hand on his son's shoulder. "Many years ago, the king and I had a 'disagreement' regarding a criminal's punishment. It affected my status. When we return home, I'll tell you more about it. Hopefully, the king's disdain for me will not affect the two of you."

Richard and Jason looked at each other. Affect them? How? They knew their father, and trusted his judgment. If the king disagreed with their father, then the king must be wrong.

"Father, we're loyal to the king, but our first loyalty is always to you and our family," Richard replied as Jason stood nodding his agreement.

Lord Bruce smiled at his sons. "You two make me very proud."

"We met the Princess today Father," Jason stated, somewhat changing the somber direction of their conversation.

"Indeed," Bruce said as he raised an eyebrow at his son's statement. "And what did you think of the fair princess?"

Jason smiled as he looked at Richard. His brother was intently watching him, waiting for his response. "She is certainly beautiful father. I think Richard would agree with that. BUT, there is another I'm more interested in. One of the Princess' ladies in waiting."

Bruce smiled. Yes, ladies in waiting would be much better suited for his sons than King James' daughter.

Richard and Jason enjoyed the celebrations at the Great Hall. Early in the evening, they sought out and found the princess and her ladies. Sir Richard happily monopolized Princess Barbara's evening until it was almost time for the meal. They danced and they talked and they laughed. And they were happier than they ever remembered being.

King James had been occupied with his nobles. It was rather late in the evening when he spied his daughter with the raven haired young knight. The king watched them carefully from the moment he found them in the crowd. When the young man turned, he saw the symbol of the Bat on his dark blue tunic. To King James, that would not do. He started walking towards the young couple.

"Barbara, my dear," the King began as he approached.

"Father," she said sweetly as she kissed him on the cheek.

Richard turned his head to the king. He had never personally met King James before. His stomach was fluttering. He bowed low before his liege lord before standing again. He waited for the king to speak to him.

"Have you been enjoying yourself daughter?"

"Very much, father," she replied with a twinkle in her eyes. "Have you met Sir Richard, father?" she asked indicating her young knight.

The king turned toward Richard, "You're one of Lord Wayne's sons?"

"Yes Your Grace."

"Hm, yes. Well. Daughter, I think you should spend some time becoming acquainted with some of the other young knights," King James said as he gently placed his arm around his daughter and led her away. "We have a guest from Gaul, Sir Jean-Paul of Azrael."

"The Gaul heir? He's here? Father, you hadn't told me you had invited him," she said as they walked into the crowd.

From the alcove, a shadowy figure intently watched the unfolding events involving  
the king and the young knight.

Forlornly, Richard watched as she disappeared into the crowd away from him. He felt as if the king didn't want him near the princess. Was it his father's problems with the king? He looked about the room his brother was entertaining Lady Dinah with his wild stories of supposed knightly quests; his father was in a group of nobles and here he stood alone.

Early the next morning, the brothers escaped the retinue of young knights and their father's watchful gaze sneaking outside the City gates. Only a shadowy figure seemed to see them, and followed the Wayne heirs.

Making their way along the river's edge, they found a secluded spot. With mischief in their eyes, the brothers quickly went for a swim.

"Are we having to cool ourselves off from thinking of the princess, brother?" Jason asked with a wicked grin.

Richard splashed his brother, "If you'll concentrate on Lady Dinah, you'll be fine. Leave the princess to me."

"Everyone was leaving the princess to you last night, until the king interrupted you."

"You saw?" Richard said with a sigh as he shook water from his coal black hair.

"Yes, I noticed. Only a blind man wouldn't have noticed," Jason replied splashing his brother back.

"I'm afraid "

"Of what? You've never been afraid of anything."

"I'm afraid the king won't allow Barbara and I to "

"Barbara? Just, Barbara? No Princess, highness? You were moving rather fast last night weren't you?" Richard rolled his eyes as he started out of the river. Jason followed him anxiously awaiting his answer. "Well?" Jason nagged as they started dressing.

"What well?"

Jason laughed a loud hearty laughter. Richard shook his head, but ended up joining his brother's good spirits. He stopped as he started looking through the brushes near the bank.

"Have you seen my tunic?" Richard called.

"You had it with your other clothes. Why?"

Richard walked from behind the brush, "It's gone. An animal must've gotten it."

"That's the bat tunic. Father is NOT going to be happy."

"I know! Let's get back. If Father asks, I spilled something on it or ripped it. Uncle Alfred will help me when we return home, he'll get me another."

Jason shook his head. They all knew they could never fool their father, but yet they always continued to try.

The brothers headed back toward the city gates.

"The Picts have been raiding our borders, raiding Wayne lands. And they will continue and will come closer and closer to Gotham if we don't strike out and stop them now," Bruce, Lord Wayne, forcefully stated as his fist slammed down on the meeting table.

"Your men should be able to patrol your lands, Lord Wayne," King James replied.

"My men are already spread thin, your grace. Wayne lands are your northern most border. You need to supply additional men to protect our boundaries and "

"Silence! I've heard enough. If you need extra men to patrol my northern borders, then take your two sons and go."

Bruce's blue eyes glared at the king as his anger grew.

"These Picts are savages, no?" the young Gaul asked. "No real threat to you, your grace."

'They are a VERY real threat. The fact that they are savages makes them MORE of a threat," Bruce roared.

"Enough. Lord Wayne it is time that you leave Gotham."

Bruce's eyes bored into the king before he turned and stormed from the council's chamber. Stomping through the halls toward his chambers, he felt frustrated. Ten years that man had held a grudge against him for ten years. And now, he was letting that grudge affect the safety of the kingdom.

The Dark Knight would do what he could to protect his lands. And if it protected the rest of the kingdom, then so be it. Although the thought of helping a king who didn't want to help himself angered him.

Bruce had tried, these many years, to get past his differences with King James. Hadn't it been he who had been more wronged? Yet, he tried for Selina, for Alfred, for his sons. Nothing he did seemed to please or appease the king. And, while he never would admit it, it bothered him to have fallen from the king's favorite young knight to the noble the king barely tolerated.

Opening the large oak door, he entered his chambers to see his eldest son dressing again. "Richard, why are you changing?"

Richard and Jason turned wide blue eyes toward their father. Taking a deep breath, Richard calmly tried to reply, "I ripped my tunic. I'll have it repaired when we return home father."

"Which will be today," Bruce added as he walked further into the room.

The brothers turned to face each other. "Today, Father?" Jason asked. "But the jousting tournament doesn't start until "

"The king has 'requested' that we return home and ensure the safety of our northern borders."

Richard stood there forlornly. He had hoped to use the tournament as a way of gaining more favor with the king's daughter, and perhaps, with the king himself. There was an ache in his chest that he was unfamiliar with as he and his brother started gathering their belongings for the trip back to Castle Wayne.

_ A scream echoed throughout the halls of the great castle of the king of __Gotham__. A scream that tore through the fabric of the black night. There was a great commotion in the castle. Soon, the young __Gaul__ led out a contingent of the king's guards into the night. They were riding hard and fast, and they were heading north._

**_TO BE CONTINUED ..._**


	4. Chapter 4

Thanks to Robin for beta reading. This part is the first part that came to my mind when this plot bunny was born. I hope you all enjoy. Char :-)

**_ONCE UPON A TIME: _** **_Part 4:_**

Bruce entered Castle Wayne, followed by his elder sons. He smiled when he saw Timothy coming down the stairs.

"Father!" Timothy called out as he ran down the remaining stairs to greet them. "You're back early."

"Yes," Lord Wayne replied, his voice hiding his disappointment. "Have you taken care of everything here?"

"Yes. Well, Uncle Alfred and I have," Tim replied beaming. Then he looked to his brothers, "We have new puppies, they were born while you were away." He blushed, embarrassed at how young he sounded. Timothy looked to his brothers, "Richard, Jason, tell me about Gotham."

They smiled at his excitement. "Oh there's plenty to tell, little brother," Jason said as he threw his arm around Timothy's shoulder.

"Really?"

"Really."

Richard followed them into the Great Hall. He was quite reticent. Jason regaled the family with his tales of Gotham as Bruce and Alfred walked off quietly discussing political events that had occurred at Court.

Selina noticed Richard had moved to the large window and was staring out into the night. Silently, she moved to him. "What's wrong?" she asked as she slipped her hand around his arm.

Richard turned toward his mother and smiled. "Nothing."

Knowingly, Selina squeezed his arm and asked, "What is her name?"

Richard looked down and smiled. He knew he was blushing. "How did you Barbara. Her name is Barbara."

Selina looked at Richard, worry on her face. "Barbara? The Princess?"

"Yes," he said.

She noticed the faraway tone in his voice. She wished it was anyone but the king's daughter. "Richard, I ... I don't think that is the best thought "

He looked at her, his blue eyes imploring, "Why mother? Why not?"

"She is the king's daughter. Your father ... well the king ... they "

"Have problems? Yes, we noticed that. That's why the king made us leave early." Selina looked at her son through wide green eyes. She hadn't known that. Bruce hadn't had an opportunity to tell her. "But why does the king disfavor father so?"

She sighed as she turned to look out the window. "Do you remember your last trip to Gotham?"

He thought back to when he was a young child. "Yes. I was nine. Gotham was so impressive."

"Do you remember anything ... happening?" she asked.

His blue eyes narrowed. "Yes. I ... I remember that man attacking you." Richard's mind drifted back to that day. That sight. He recalled it with surprising clarity, although he hadn't thought of it in years. As his mind replayed the scene before him, his young adult mind now fully understood what the child who entered the room had not.

Richard looked at his mother again. Pain in his eyes. "Mother, I "

"Shh," she replied, comforting as she continued her story. "Your father and the king disagreed concerning the man's punishment."

"Punishment! There was only one punishment for that ... for what he did."

She smiled slightly, "You are very much your father's son, Richard. That is how he felt as well. The king disagreed."

"How could he "

She pulled him closer to her. "The man who attacked me also saved the princess's life. That is why the king chose to exile him. Your father was not pleased. And he publicly questioned the king."

"And the king holds that against father? Even now, after so many years? Doesn't he understand how my father must have felt?" Richard felt his own anger rising.

"That is just the way it is. And I know how the young heart is. This will be difficult for you, but you must forget about the princess. It will never be."

Her son's sad eyes tore at her heart but before either of them could say anything more, they heard Bruce's boisterous voice as he and Alfred reentered the room.

Alfred was informing Bruce that some of their sentries had reported a group of Picts had passed through their lands. "They possibly have infiltrated as far south as Gotham, Bruce. We couldn't track them and continue our border patrols. We simply don't have enough men."

"Which I have tried to tell King James," Bruce sighed. "I'll send word to Gotham to be on the lookout for these rogues. However, I doubt the king will believe me, much less heed my warning. Tomorrow Richard and Jason will check our men patrolling the western part of our Northern border while Timothy and I check the men patrolling the eastern section."

Timothy's young eyes lit up, "Really father? I get to patrol with you?"

Lord Bruce smiled at his youngest son. "Yes, Timothy. You'll be a knight on your next birthday. I believe this will be a good experience for you."

Timothy beamed as he played with one of the new puppies in his lap. Richard walked closer to Jason and smiled at his younger brother.

"I still think we should hang him naked in the orchard," Jason whispered to his older brother as Richard nodded in agreement.

Richard was awakened by the sound of his bed chamber door crashing in. The young knight jumped quickly, trying to reach his sword, but the armed men were quickly upon him. Richard's hand had only been mere inches from his sword's hilt when six sword points touched the bare flesh of his chest.

"What's "

"Quiet!" one of the armed men yelled as two others grabbed him by his arms and pulled him from the room.

"You don't know what you're doing! My father will " Richard began as he struggled with the men who dragged him through the too quiet corridor of his home.

"Your father will do nothing," the vocal man said as they continued moving the struggling youth down the stairs and toward the great hall. As they entered the doorway to the great hall, the men pushed Richard in.

Richard saw his father and Jason in the middle of the room. His aunt and uncle standing together near the fireplace, his uncle's arms around his aunt. His mother stood with his youngest brother. Richard read the fear in their eyes. What was going on? Instinctively, he moved toward his father as the men with drawn swords encircled them.

"Father?" he questioned as he approached.

"We don't know," Jason stated.

Bruce looked his eldest in the eyes. "We were all pulled from our beds as you were. We don't know why?"

"Well, you should know," the Gaul's voice came as he entered the room. All eyes turned to the young knight. His long blond hair falling around his shoulders in the style of the Gaul's.

"Sir Jean-Paul?" Bruce asked.

"On your knees," Jean-Paul responded.

Bruce stiffened, as did his two elder sons. Roughly, the armed men grabbed the members of the Wayne family by their shoulders and pushed them onto the floor, onto their knees.

King James entered the room. "Where's my daughter? What've you done to her?" he roared at them.

Richard's eyes grew wide. Barbara? Barbara was missing? Was she all right? He had to find her, had to save her.

Bruce looked up at the king, "I don't know what you're talking about, my liege."

King James fumed with rage. "My daughter has been taken. And this " he said, as he threw the blue tunic with the symbol of the bat the Wayne family crest on it onto the floor in front of them, "was found in her room. Who does this tunic belong to? Which of your sons'?"

Richard's eyes darted from the tunic to his father and back again. His breathing was coming in quick short gasps. What was happening? What was he going to do? Where was Barbara? He looked at his father again. Stoically, Bruce stared at the tunic. He didn't meet Richard's eyes. He said not a word.

The king continued, "Wayne, if one of your sons is responsible for this without your knowledge, give him to me and the rest of you won't be punished."

Richard started to panic. They thought he had what would they do to him? He turned to look at his father who remained silent before the king.

The irate king roared, "Very well then, kill them all. One by one, until they tell me where she is. And have the Duke watch."

Bruce looked up into the king's face, "Your Grace, I demand the Court of Nobles."

King James glared at the Duke. He could strip the Duke of his title and his lands, but not his right to the court.

The young Gaul moved close to the King, "Your highness. A suggestion if I may."

"You may speak, Sir Jean-Paul."

Richard looked up as the Gaul spoke to the king. "The Wayne family has dishonored you, please allow a humble visitor to assist you in this matter. If I might suggest, that you allow me, a foreigner, to question one of them, I'm sure that we will be able to get the truth from them. I would be acting on my own and then it would not involve the Court of Nobles."

Richard's blue eyes bore into the Gaul knight. Then his eyes dropped to the tunic that lay before him on the floor. His tunic. He had been careless with it, and this was the result. It was all his fault.

Jean-Paul continued. "My retinue are quite skilled in the art of persuasion. Perhaps we should start with the youngest?"

As the king pondered the young knight's offer, Lord Bruce turned toward Timothy who was breathing heavily and clutching at Selina.

With worried eyes, Selina looked up at the king. "Your Grace, he's just a boy. He didn't even go to Gotham."

"Then perhaps you could tell us where the princess is?" King James retorted.

The Gaul moved slightly forward, "He is just as guilty as the rest of you and whatever he knows, I will know."

Selina was crying as she hugged Timothy tightly to her. "We don't know anything. No! Please," she cried as Jean-Paul reached out grabbing Timothy by the arm.

The young boy cried out, "I don't know ... Mother!" Looking down the line, past his two brothers, "Father "

Letting go of the boy's arm, Jean-Paul moved down the line of the kneeling Waynes. "If he doesn't know anything, then perhaps the next oldest will after we get done with him."

Jason looked up defiantly at the leering Gaul and spit in his face.

"Temper, temper." the Gaul said menacingly as he wiped spittle off his face. "You'll wish you had that moisture when I get done with your brother and start on you."

Bruce turned to the King. "The Court of Nobles. You can't supercede it not like this."

"Your highness, he seeks to hide behind the laws that he flaunts. He is making a mockery of your justice and nobility. He and his family even now allow your child to be in grave danger while they play games with the law. The youngest won't last long, we'll have answers within hours. Maybe even the hour."

Alfred looked up with quiet dignity. "Your Grace. I have faithfully served you for many years. I give you my word, I know nothing of the princess's disappearance. Please allow us our chance to plead our case before the Court of Nobles."

Richard looked at his father, his eyes imploring his father to just tell the king the tunic was his. It was his fault the king and his guards were here. It was all his fault.

"While I appreciate your enthusiasm and your generous offer, Sir Jean-Paul, we can not ignore these laws."

"But Your Grace, a few moments and this all will be over." He reached down and grabbed the young boy and pulled him from his mother's arms." The Gaul glared at the Duke. "Would you let the most innocent of you suffer the most, simply to continue with your failed plan?"

"Plan? What plan do you think we had?" the Duke asked angrily.

"To force King James' hand of course. To make him send troops to aid your pitiful defense of his lands while he searches for his beloved daughter. Meanwhile, she is in, " he turned and stared at Richard, "real danger at your hands." Turning back to the king, the Gaul knight continued, "Your grace, I simply wish to make sure that Princess Barbara is returned. I care for her deeply and I know that she returns my affections."

Richard looked at Jean-Paul, his anger at the Gaul clear. Lord Bruce shook his head at his eldest son, as the Gaul continued tempting the king. "If I might serve you in this way, I would be deeply honored. The young one will not last long and his ... entreaties will motivate the others to come forward with the truth."

The young boy struggled, trying to get out of the larger man's grip.

"I'll kill you if you harm my brother," Richard growled in a low voice. Lord Bruce placed his hand on Richard's arm.

"Such brave words. But I have nothing to fear from a dishonorable cur such as yourself. I'll enjoy watching your face ... while I work."

Richard and Jason reached out grabbing Timothy and pulling him from the Gaul's grasp and down to them. Jean-Paul glared at them and started to reach for Timothy again.

Bruce had proudly watched his sons. Then he turned to his wife. Their eyes met and spoke volumes to each other. He knew what he had to do. Before the Gaul connected with the young boy, the Duke stood.

Defiantly, the Duke stared at the King, "If ANY harm comes to any of my family the princess DIES."

All eyes fell on Bruce.

"Duke, I thought you had nothing to do with it. Have you lied to us?" the King angrily accused.

"Your Grace, they have no honor, you can not expect them to speak the truth without the proper ... motivation. Besides if the Princess dies then they're all lost  
and he knows it. I will cut your tongue out myself Duke for threatening her."

The Duke stood his ground, "I'll repeat what I have said before Your Grace. If any harm comes to any of my family the princess dies. If you want to see your daughter alive again, you will release my sons. They will go where I tell them and only them and bring her back to Gotham. If they don't you may execute us all."

King James shouted, "Enough."

"Your High " began the Gaul.

"Enough!"

Bruce stood his ground staring at the king, waiting for his decision, and hoping that his bluff worked. Richard and Jason looked at each other, then down at their younger brother. Richard and Jason worried for Timothy, for all of them. They knew their father had nothing to do with the princess's disappearance. How could admitting guilt help them? But they trusted their father, even if they didn't understand what was he planning.

The King glared at Lord Wayne. Their eyes locked. His words were like a viper's venom. "Duke, for your treachery, your family should suffer the tender mercies of the Gaul. For the torture you have bestowed on us, it would be only fitting that it be returned to you with the loss of your family - one by one. However, I will not and can not allow any harm to befall my daughter. I cannot imagine how you rationalized this Duke, but I swear that you will pay for this."

Jean-Paul looked to the king, "Your Grace! Please at least allow me to start on him," he said pointing to Bruce. "There is nothing to motivate such dishonorable individuals to return your daughter. We can only imagine what tortures they have already inflicted upon her."

"I'll take whatever punishment Your Grace sees fit after your daughter is returned and my family freed. Allow my sons their swords and I will tell them where to find the princess."

"Allow them to go free?" King James inquired with a laugh.

"You will have my wife, my uncle and aunt, as well as myself, as your hostages prisoners. My sons will return to Gotham with your daughter."

"The do not grant you the respect that God demands, how are we to believe that they care for family?" Jean-Paul posed.

"I understand your concern and I appreciate your ... zeal. However, whatever else Duke Wayne and his family are, they are devoted to one another." the king added as he walked around the room. Turning back to the Duke, he said, "Very well, I will release your sons. I warn you Lord Wayne, any further duplicity and your family's torment will be the basis of legends."

The king nodded to his guards to stand back and allow the other members of the Wayne family to stand. They all moved in, closer to Bruce. Alfred placed his hand on Bruce's shoulder, feeling his tension. His sons moved as close as they could to their father. Selina and Leslie wrapped their arms around the boys' shoulders, as tears fell from their eyes.

The king's eyes bored into the Waynes, angry fire leaping from his eyes. "If my daughter is not returned in a week, unharmed, your family will enjoy the Gaul's unfettered attention. It saddens me that your actions have brought me to this low state where I would permit such 'attentions' against nobility. Know this, however, from this day forward your titles and lands are forfeit."

Bruce's jaw flinched, but he showed no emotion. Yet, he had emotions and internally, his emotions churned volatile. So many emotions, but he couldn't be controlled by them. He had to maintain his dignity, his nobility, as his uncle Alfred had taught him. He would maintain that nobility regardless of what tortures he knew would come. He nodded to the king and turned to his oldest son, pulling the boy close to him so he could whisper in his ear.

"Take your brothers, try to find and rescue the princess. If you can find her and she still lives, bring her safely to Gotham. If she is dead or you cannot find her within the week, do NOT return to Gotham and do not return here. Leave the king's lands. Protect your brothers. They are your responsibility now. Don't think of us. Your brothers' safety is your primary duty. Promise me Richard."

"Yes father," Richard said softly. This couldn't be happening. It was all his fault. Turning from his father's gaze which he could no longer face, he saw Timothy in their mother's arms. She was comforting the boy as his Aunt Leslie hugged Jason. Richard turned again, he couldn't bear to face any of his family. His worried eyes looked up and found the king and Jean-Paul staring at him.

"If you do not return, you will have no place to hide. I will hunt you to the ends of the earth," King James began. "God himself will tremble at your family's fate and your demise will be the worst of all."

Jean-Paul glared at Richard, hatred dripping from his eyes.

The king's guards escorted Richard to his room. Quickly, Richard dressed. He was careful what to wear. The king had forbid him and his brothers from wearing anything that would denote a knightly state. For they were no longer knights of the realm, those titles had been stripped from them. They were prisoners. The fact the king was giving them their swords and horses didn't change the fact that they were prisoners.

Richard's heart was heavy with sadness and worry worry for his family and worry for Barbara. If only he had been the one to have taken her. At least she'd be safe. Who knew whether she was safe now, or if she ever would be again.

He took his scabbard and secured it on his belt. Taking his gold hilted sword, he stared at it a moment before sheathing it into the scabbard. He walked from the room, closely followed by the guards. He met Jason and Timothy coming from their rooms as well. Together, the brothers walked down the stairs and out into the courtyard. They stopped as they saw other guards binding their father's hands.

"Get your horses," Bullock, captain of the King's guards ordered.

Silently, they moved into the stables.

The Gaul watched the Wayne brothers as they entered the stables. He moved to the king. "My liege, I don't mean to speak out of turn, but I cannot remain quiet. I fear releasing these three rogues will not return our princess. Please your Grace, allow me to go with them. Barbara is a spring to my parched soul, allow me to help save her."

"I appreciate your feelings toward my daughter. The alliance between our houses was what I had hoped would occur from your meeting."

"Then allow me to accompany them."

"No. Not just yet. However, if they fail to return, you may lead the search parties to find them."

"Yes, Your Grace."

Richard walked out of the livery leading his black steed. His brothers followed him leading their horses as well. They walked to where the king's guards were having the rest of their family loaded onto the wagon. Sacks of grain were transported on wagons, not the Duke and Duchess of Wayne. Their hearts ached as they saw their parents, and their uncle and aunt, treated in such a humiliating fashion.

"Father, mother," Richard began as he approached the wagon.

Bruce looked at his sons with a sad smile. He cupped Richard's cheek with his bound hands. "I'm proud of you, all of you," he said as he looked to his younger sons as well. Jason and Timothy were standing near their mother.

"Your week has started," Jean-Paul called out. Such dishonorable men deserved no compassion.

"You'd better go, my son. Ride well," Bruce said, his voice tinged in sadness. He watched his sons mounted their horses and rode through the gates. Watched them for as long as he could, watched them for what he feared was the last time.

**_To be continued_**


	5. Chapter 5

Here's the next part. Thanks to Robin for beta'ing. Hope you all enjoy. Char :-)

ONCE UPON A TIME: Part 5

It was with heavy hearts that the young knights rode out from Castle Wayne. Their minds were filled with dread and hopeless. They had no idea where to begin their search for the Princess, and they only had a week to complete their quest.

"Where are we going Richard?" Timothy asked as they rode away from their home.

"I don't know," Richard answered his brother as he stopped his horse. He waited for them to ride beside him before continuing. "Barbara was taken from Gotham. We don't know who took her or why? I don't know where to begin."

"What did father suggest?" Jason queried.

Richard looked at his brothers as a sad expression formed on his face. "Father ... wants us to be safe." His brothers looked at him as understanding washed over them.

Jason shook his head. "We can't give up. We have to do ... something."

"I know," Richard said as an idea came to him. "We'll ride north and gather our men. They'll help us."

Jason smiled, "And the more men we have in the search, the better our chances of finding the Princess and saving our family."

Richard looked at his youngest brother and noticed the lost expression on the young boy's face. "How are you Timothy?"

The younger boy looked at his brother with sad eyes. "I've always wanted to be a knight, to go with you and Jason on a quest, but I never wanted anything like this to happen. What will the king do to father if we don't find the princess?"

Richard sighed. He hated to answer that question, he didn't want to think of the possibilities. "Timothy, I'd like to say that everything will be all right, but I cannot. If we fail, if I fail, the king will execute father. I don't know what he'll do to mother, Uncle Alfred and Aunt Leslie."

"Then we won't fail, brother," Jason declared as he spurred his horse into a gallop northward.

Richard and Timothy spurred their horses on as well, and the three headed toward their garrisoned men.

Selina sat by her husband. She stared at the ropes binding his hands. She knew he allowed this allowed himself to be captured to protect her and their children. He was the Dark Knight, the best warrior in the kingdom. Her husband could have fought his way out of their home last night, could have gotten away, but it was more important that their children were safe.

Bruce looked at her, his eyes said so much. Selina placed her hand around his arm and smiled at him. "I love you, my lord," she said as she leaned her head against his strong shoulder.

He closed his eyes and sighed. "And I you." Then he opened his eyes as he felt the wagon they sat in start to jerk. They were on the move to Gotham. He watched the guards who flanked the wagon as it left the gates of Castle Wayne, his mind was on his sons. "They'll be all right," he said voicing confidence against their shared concern.

Selina was comforted by his words. At least her children would be safe. But ... Bruce. She leaned in closer to him, taking in the smell of him, the feel of him. Silently, her tears flowed down her face.

As Richard and his brothers rode the north road, they saw three riders coming toward them. Richard smiled as he spurred his horse into a gallop. "Roy!"

"Richard," Roy called out as he rode toward his friend. The captain of the Wayne garrison pulled his horse up as Wallace and Garth pulled up beside him. He noticed how his friends were attired. Something wasn't right.

"Garth, you're wounded," Jason said looking at Garth's bleeding shoulder.

"It's nothing," Garth replied.

"We ran into some Picts near the border. Fought with them," Roy began.

"Where are the rest of the men?" Richard asked with authority.

"All dead," Wallace replied. "We're the only ones who got away. That's why we were heading toward the Castle reinforcements."

"You won't get any there" Timothy stated sadly.

Roy turned puzzled eyes toward Timothy, then anxiously looked back at his friend. "Richard? What's going on?"

Richard shook his head as locks of his dark black hair fell into his face. "It's ... too complicated. So, the Picts were raiding our lands again?"

"No," Wallace stated. "They were coming from the south, headed back toward the border, toward their lands."

Richard pondered the statement. "Were they alone?"

"Alone? There was a British girl with them. A captive we assumed. We tried to rescue her, but we couldn't," Roy added.

Richard felt his chest tighten, "A red head?"

"How did you " Garth began.

"The princess," Richard sighed as he closed his eyes in a thankful prayer. She was still alive.

Jason looked around with fire in his eyes, "Then lets ride and bring her home."

Richard thought quickly, "Jason, Timothy and I will follow the Picts, but we won't engage until the three of you catch up with us."

"Where are we going?" Wallace asked. It was clear he was anxious to get back into the fight.

"I need you three to go to Castle Wayne. The king and his guards are there. Tell them what you saw, who you engaged. Save our father and follow up with reinforcements," Richard ordered.

"Save the Duke?" Roy asked. "Save him from what? Richard, what's going on?"

"The king thinks that father had the princess kidnapped. He ... father ... our family ... they're his prisoners."

Roy, Garth and Wallace looked at each other, then back at their comrades.

"What! How can King James think the Duke would do something so treacherous?" Roy yelled. Roy's loyalty to Lord Wayne knew no bounds. The Duke had brought him to Wayne lands when he was a young lad, after Pict raiders had killed his parents and burned his village. The Duke of Wayne had given the young boy a home, taught him the ways of a warrior, allowed him to grow up with the Duke's own sons and eventually made him Captain of his guard.

Young Timothy looked up. "They're going to kill father," he said, his voice tinged with sadness.

"No they won't. We won't let them," Roy said. His eyes met Richard's, "We'll get the Duke, then we'll all catch up with you."

Richard smiled at his friend. "We'll make sure the princess isn't harmed." Richard and Roy clasped hands as they started to ride in different directions. "Roy," Richard called back, "they may have already taken father and started for Gotham."

"We'll find them. And we'll all see you soon," Roy said as he waved at his friends and then rode off toward Castle Wayne.

With a smile on his face, Richard led his brothers north. They knew who they were looking for now. And Richard vowed that the Picts would pay dearly for the grief they'd caused.

"Do you think we're heading in the right direction?"

"Yes, Stephanie, we are," Dinah replied as she looked at her younger sister.

Stephanie turned her young blue eyes toward Dinah. Her hair tied in one long braid fell over her shoulder. "You don't think Sirs Richard and Jason are responsible for Barbara's abduction?"

Dinah set her mouth determinedly. She knew Jason. Granted, they had only just met and she had only known him a little over two days, but she knew him well enough to know he wasn't involved. She had seen Barbara's bedchamber, there were obvious signs of a struggle. If Sir Richard had wanted to take the princess away, Barbara would have been happy to accommodate him. There wouldn't have been a struggle. "I'm positive."

"Do you have any ideas what we're going to do when we find whoever took Barbara?" Stephanie asked.

"No. But we'll think of something." Dinah spurred her horse into a gallop and continued their trek northward.

Roy, Wallace, and Garth rode up on the hill overlooking Castle Wayne. Looking down, they saw the road leading to Gotham. They saw the king's men and the wagon carrying the king's prisoners.

Roy's eyes narrowed as he watched the scene before him. "Let's go," he said in a low growl as they headed toward the caravan.

The Gaul pulled up his horse and wheeled the chestnut colored stallion around. His senses had told him riders were approaching. "Your Grace," he called to the king.

The caravan stopped as the king's guard's prepared for an assault from the approaching horsemen. Lord Bruce's eyes narrowed into recognition as he watched the three young men approaching.

"My lord," the captain of the Wayne guards called as he rode up, his right hand striking his upper chest in salute, his head slightly bowed.

King James' eyes narrowed as he recognized the totem of the Bat on their clothes. Wayne's men. Silently he stared at them, waiting for them to speak. He noticed the Gaul to his right, his hand upon the hilt of his sword.

It was the somewhat brash young redhead who spoke up, "I ... my lord," his green eyes darted to his Duke in the wagon.

"Go on," King James pressed, "What is your business?"

"My men and I engaged the Picts near the northern borders. They had the princess with them"

King James' eyes grew wide. "The princess ... my daughter!"

"They lie!" the Gaul shouted. "This is treachery."

Wallace seethed at the affront, "We don't lie. We lost all of our garrison in that fight. The three of us are all that are left."

The Gaul didn't let up. "King James, it is all lies. They had no way to know the princess was missing "

"Richard told us. Told us everything," Garth replied as he applied pressure on his still bleeding shoulder.

"Richard told them. That dishonorable cur. Your Grace this is a ploy. They seek to trap us, capture us all, or worse."

Roy's green eyes flashed with anger, "You arrogant "

"Enough!" the king shouted.

Richard squatted down looking at the tracks on the road. Jason and Timothy watched him. His face was serious as he studied the tracks, his horses reins in hand. Richard stood up and remounted. "This way," he said as he turned his steed in a northwesterly direction.

Timothy rode up close to his oldest brother, "Richard ... what do we do ... if we find the Picts. They killed all the men except for "

Richard looked at his brother. "Don't think about that. We've got a job to do. A job we're capable of doing, all three of us."

Jason rode along side them so Timothy was in the middle, "We're knights after all all of us. Sons of the Dark Knight. The Picts haven't met us yet."

As they headed toward the border lands, they heard screams in the distance.

"Barbara?" Richard softly queried at the sound. His heart skipped a beat with worry as he spurred his black steed onward, his brothers close at his heels.

The young knights raced toward the sound of the lady's scream. Their only hope was that they weren't too late.

To be continued


	6. Chapter 6

Thanks go out to Robin for betaing and Patty for "notbetaing" although it seemed like a beta to me. ;-) I hope you all like this part. Char :-)

**_ONCE UPON A TIME PART 6:_**

The three young knights pushed their horses into a fast gallop toward the sound of the scream. Their hearts were racing as they prepared for battle. As they rode into an open grove, Richard quickly pulled up his steed, his brothers following close behind him. They stared at the sight before them.

The Lady Dinah, dressed in men's britches, her hair pulled into a long braid. She was busily stomping something on the ground. The young men rode up, Jason taking the lead. He jumped down from his horse, "Dinah, what are you doing?"

"Stomping a spider. Stephanie screamed when she saw it."

All eyes fell upon the younger girl, her flaxen braid falling around her shoulders. She was dressed in men's clothing, like her sister. She stood in the open grove, her arms crossed in front of her, and a scowl marring her young face.

Jason looked to Richard, "A spider!" The two brothers burst into laughter.

Timothy still sat atop his horse. He watched as his brothers laughed at the pretty young girl. His mind kept thinking that she was very pretty. Quickly, he dismounted and approached her. He gave her a courtly bow, "Excuse my brothers' ill manners," he began then turned and glared at them, "Knights should never laugh at a lady."

Stephanie blushed as this young man defended her to his brothers. His brothers? Richard and Jason had another, younger, brother? Stephanie found herself suddenly smiling.

Dinah moved closer to Jason as he and his brother tried to stop themselves from laughing. She looked into his deep blue eyes and smiled. "I didn't think I'd see you again."

Jason found himself smiling back at her, "Why?"

Dinah sighed, "We were at the castle when the king was gathering his forces after the princess' kidnapping. He wasn't ... listening. He had his mind made up that Richard and your father and you were responsible. Stephanie and I tried to tell them they were wrong, but they wouldn't listen to us. So, we decided we'd try to find Barbara ourselves."

"Do you realize how dangerous that was?" Richard asked his temper flaring.

Jason stood protectively between his elder brother and the lady who occupied more and more of his thoughts. He recognized their father's flaring temper in his older brother. "Richard, Lady Dinah was only trying to help."

Richard sighed, "I'm apologize Lady Dinah. I was only concerned for your safety as well as the princesses, and ... others." The somber mood that had controlled him since the king's intrusion into his home, into his life, returned.

Timothy watched the exchange, "Well, you both should apologize to ..." he looked to the pretty young girl who stood before him for a name.

"Stephanie," she said with a soft sweet voice.

"Stephanie." He smiled at her before turning back to his brothers, "You should apologize to Stephanie," Timothy continued forcefully.

Richard smiled slightly at his youngest brother as he approached and bowed gallantly before the young girl. "Lady Stephanie, as my brother Timothy has pointed out, Jason and I owe you an apology. Knights should never laugh at ladies."

The King had spoken. "Enough." He had heard all the bickering he intended to. His daughter was in danger and they weren't finding her standing around arguing. However, he certainly didn't believe the Duke of Wayne's men. It was only logical that they were as treacherous as their master. He turned to the captain of his personal guard. "Bullock, take these three into custody."

Instantly Roy's hand drew his sword from its scabbard. His green eyes narrowed as he prepared for battle. Bullock charged him. The clanging of swords echoed through the countryside.

Garth moved his bloody hand from the wound on his right shoulder and drew his sword. Turning his steed he charged the king's men. One of the Gaul's men rode toward Garth's injured side. Wallace intercepted him.

Bruce's blue eyes focused on the battle around him. Briefly, he looked down at his bound hands, then his eyes once again found the battle before him. His young men were outnumbered. He needed to help them. The Duke was determined his fetters wouldn't stop him from aiding them.

In one swift fluid movement, the Duke stood and jumped from the wagon. Launching himself at one of the king's guards, he dislodged the rider from his horse. As they rolled on the ground, Lord Bruce grabbed the man by his neck, forcefully smashing his head into the ground. Taking the unconscious man's sword, Bruce deftly cut the ropes which bound him.

The Gaul had watched the Duke's movements, all of his attention focused on the former captive. Swiftly he kicked his horse into a gallop and charged the Duke's unwatched back. He moved his sword in a slicing motion, but his blade was stopped short of its target by the sword of the brash young redhead.

"In the back. Not very sporting," Roy called out as he engaged the Gaul in battle.

Jean-Paul's' eyes raged at the young warrior. "You impudent ... you will taste the blade of a real knight.

Bruce grabbed the sword of the fallen guard and turned toward the battle as Roy occupied the Gaul. Like a feral tiger, the Dark Knight started moving through both the king and the Gaul's men. Skillfully and with apparent ease, Lord Bruce had single handedly taken down four of the combatants when he turned in the direction of a scream.

For the first time in his life, he froze on the battlefield. Bullock held Selina in the wagon, his sword to her throat. King James stood beside the Captain of his guard. Bruce dropped his sword and called out, "Stand down."

Roy, Wallace and Garth all turned toward their liege. They dropped their weapons and dismounted their horses. Quickly, they moved to Bruce's side.

The Gaul rode up beside the wagon and addressed the king, "My lord, shall we execute them all now?"

The king's eyes raged a fiery fury as they bored into the four men standing before him. "As much as I would enjoy watching that, Sir Jean-Paul, I gave my word "

"Your word! To these dishonorable "

Raising his hand, the king silenced the young Gaul. "My word. They have a week to return my daughter. Besides, my plans for the one time Duke of Wayne will be better served in Gotham. A traitor's death to deter future uprisings."

The guards bound the four captives and positioned them back in the wagon. Jean-Paul continued to converse with the king. Lord Bruce watched them intently although he couldn't make out what they were saying. The Gaul wheeled his horse and headed north toward the land of the Picts as the wagon started again for Gotham with a lurch, .

The building was dark and damp, not at all like the buildings of Gotham. More rudimentary and earthen than the castles she was used to. Barbara noticed the curious smell that assaulted her as she entered. She felt the bile rise in her throat. Her trembling hand moved up to her tear stained face.

The pale thin man with the hideous laugh pulled her along the dimly lit corridors of the wood and earthen castle. His men, in blue war paint, followed behind them. Opening a heavy wooden door, he pulled her inside the sparsely furnished room. She saw the large stone fireplace on the opposite end of the room. There was a small window slit opposite the door and a small wooden bed and one chair. The furniture was more reminiscent of that in the old Tower of Gotham than the castle she was used to.

"You'll love it here my sweet," he said in a high pitched voice. Pulling her closer with one hand, his other hand groped between her legs. She struggled against him, trying to get away. "You always belonged to me. Do you remember? I saved you those ten years ago, when I pushed you in the river."

Barbara's thoughts flowed back to that day many years ago. She remembered the water filling her mouth, choking her throat. She remembered the colorfully clad court jester who had pulled her from the river, and Captain Bullock who fussed over her on the bank. She remembered that she never saw the jester by her father's side after that day. Barbara never knew why.

He started pushing her back towards the small bed as he continued his rantings. "I saw you dancing with that boy. You shouldn't have, he is so beneath us. You and I we are royals all the rest are common "

"Royals? You were just my father's jester, you were never " she began as his hand violently slammed against her mouth. Barbara cried out in pain.

Watching her, the jester smiled. "The king and I ruled the land we sat side by side on the diadem. You belonged to both of us and now you belong to me. He didn't understand that we were equal. He made me leave Gotham all over that common whore."

Barbara's eyes were wide with fear and confusion as he continued to rave. His hand continued to grope her as she struggled against him. Roughly, he pushed her down on the bed and leaned over her, his vile breath in her face.

"Leave us," he said as he turned to his guards. "Send a few men back to Gotham. I want word of the Waynes' fate."

Richard led his brothers and the two ladies in waiting northward toward the Pict border. They followed the signs of the raiders. Richard had a knot in his stomach caused by his fear. Sir Richard was raised without fear and he was unused to this nagging feeling. He didn't like it.

He glanced back toward his brothers and the two ladies in his care. Richard was impressed with Dinah and Stephanie's tenacity in trying to rescue their friend, but he was worried that their presence would interfere with the young knight's quest. Richard couldn't send them back to Gotham alone though. That was not an option.

Jason rode up beside his brother, "Worried?"

"Yes."

Glancing back at Dinah he added, "So am I. As happy as I was to see her, I don't like bringing them into the arena."

"I know, but we can't do anything else. We just don't have the time. We'll have to keep them safe while we rescue Barbara. It's just that simple," Richard replied determinedly.

"I share your fervor brother, however, you do realize that Barbara may be "

"Don't Jason. Don't say it. I can't hear it. I have to believe she's safe and that we'll rescue her in time to save our family as well," Richard declared. "This is all my fault all of it. I have to "

"How is it your fault? You didn't kidnap the princess. You didn't lose your tunic, we know that now "

Richard stopped his brother with a motion of his hand. "I should have guarded the tunic. I should not have been swimming when there were serious matters afoot. I let down my guard and my responsibility. Everything that's happened is the result of my actions. Or more appropriately my inaction."

His brother shook his head, "No. You are not a soothsayer, anymore than I am or anymore than father is," Jason added knowing the reference to their father would draw Richard's attention. "How could you possibly have foreseen that the theft of an article of clothing would lead to a calamity? It was not possible. Someone stole it. Someone went to a great deal of trouble to make it appear that we are all traitors to the realm."

"Jason "

"No. Your guilt serves no one other than the villain behind this plot. You are a superior knight and, more than that, you are my brother. I would follow you to the ends of the earth and through hell's very own fire if you were to just say the word. But I will not allow your guilt to destroy you. If you carry this with you, we will be lost before we even engage this foe."

Reaching out Jason grabbed the reins to Richard's horse. With an expert move he stopped their horses. Jason leaned into Richard and softly spoke as forcefully as Timothy had earlier. Their father's passion and determination burned in his words, "Timothy's and my swords are at your ready, awaiting your command. We are our father's sons, we would not follow someone who had a part in such a despicable act. Therefore, you are not at fault. Father would not have trusted you, if this guilt were yours to bear. Guilt is not a weapon to be used on the battlefield. Do as our father has instructed and bring only the weapons to bear that will ensure us victory and carry our family and your heart to back to safety."

Richard smiled gently. He was amazed at how much his younger brother had grown. Could the brave young knight before him be the same boy who enjoyed hanging their youngest brother by his ankles in the orchard? It was with this same smile that he spoke, "At some point, my dear brother, you have acquired Uncle Alfred's wisdom and Father's battle sense. How is it possible you have become so wise?"

As their horses started forward again, Jason smiled broadly and proclaimed, "I listened during instruction." Richard just stared at him and then Jason continued, "Alright, I didn't listen." He laughed and then turned serious, "I followed my older brother's example. I know this in my heart that we will succeed, no matter the sacrifice. If you lead, I stand ready to serve. We will find these foes and dispatch them. Whoever is responsible will pay for their treachery."

Richard's voice was full of determination as he spurred his horse on, "I agree Jason. I agree, they will pay. The sons of the Duke of Wayne will ensure it." He pushed the guilt that ate at his heart to the side. There would be time for recriminations later, now was the time for battle.

The former court jester continued to grope Barbara. She struggled beneath him. His thin body was much stronger than he appeared. Hot, stinging tears escaped her eyes as she pleaded with him not to do this.

As suddenly as he had started, he stopped.

Barbara gasped a sigh of relief as he stood, unsure of how long her reprieve would last.

"My dear, my dear," the high pitched voice began, "I forget myself. You are an equal. I should court you. You shouldn't just be taken." Reaching out he grabbed her by the arm and pulled her up to him. "I will court you first and then we shall present your father the king with our children. Together we shall rule Gotham as I ruled Gotham with your father many years ago."

Her green eyes were wide with fear as she listened to the madman's ravings. His iron grip adding more bruises to her arms as he manhandled her.

A knock came to the heavy wooden door. He released her and she swayed. The jester looked somewhat annoyed as he walked over and threw open the door. Barbara couldn't hear what conversation transpired at the door."

"Enjoy your lovely room, my dear, I will see you at dinner time. I have some things to attend to. Things that have been many years in coming." The evil man left the room.

Barbara ran to the door and pulled it with all her might. It was locked. There was no way out. Stumbling, she made her way back to the bed. Her body shuddered with the emotions from the attack and her close escape. Sitting on the bed, she numbly looked down at her clothing , torn and dirty in places. As her hopeless reality crashed in on her, Barbara allowed her tears to flow.

Outside the door, a small thin girl with raven's black hair and wide brown eyes listened through the door. Her face was painted blue with traditional battle symbols of the Picts decorating her face and arms.

The girl had watched the jester as he and the guards headed for the center hall and started to follow, but she lingered, listening to the sobs coming from within. After a moment, she moved with great stealth toward the center hall.

Setting up watch on the perimeter of the Pict stronghold, Richard and his brothers prepared their siege. Knowing the nearing darkness would be a useful tool, they waited patiently for night to fall.

"Lady Dinah," Sir Richard began, "You and Lady Stephanie are to stay here with the horses."

"But we want to help. We can "

"We can't save Barbara if we're busy protecting you. You will be helping us by holding the horses and readying them for our escape," Richard forcefully admonished.

Jason moved over gently taking Dinah by the arm. "We want you and Stephanie to be safe. I want you to be safe. Stay here, please."

Stephanie stayed near Timothy as they watched their older siblings. Timothy smiled at Stephanie and she smiled back at him. He felt himself start to blush. He bit his lip, blushing wasn't very knightly after all.

Dinah sighed. Prior to Jason stepping in, she was preparing to argue back with Richard about how she and Stephanie could help. Jason's concern for her well being had halted her arguments. "Very well Jason, we'll wait for you here. Be careful," she said as she gently took his hand. Looking to Richard, she added, "Please bring Barbara back safely."

Richard bowed to Dinah, "Lady Dinah, that is my strongest desire. I will endeavor with all my abilities to return the Princess unharmed."

Dinah and Stephanie watched, safely hidden by the thick forest, as the three brothers approached the stronghold.

Deftly, Jason shot an arrow with a rope attached to the top turret of the abandoned watch tower. Grabbing hold of the rope, the brothers scaled the wall and dropped over into the Pict stronghold.

They kept to the shadows as they approached the entryway. Their hands on their swords, ever ready to engage in battle. As the brothers neared the entrance a large weighted net fell upon them forcing them to the ground.

The young knights used their swords to quickly cut at the netting, but the Picts were upon them before they could completely free themselves.

Richard looked to Timothy and Jason. How had their attackers known they were coming? Overpowered by the Picts, Richard instructed his brothers to drop their swords. He saw the thin pale man approaching them. "You!" Richard exclaimed as his eyes narrowed in recognition. That was the jester, the man who attacked their mother so many years ago.

"I had hoped," the former jester began, "that the king would have dispatched you. I remember the king's flourish for a traitor's death. I enjoyed watching those. Such entertainment. Even I couldn't match that THEN. Now, I can. Now, I can surpass it. How lucky am I that you have come to me. So that I may have revenge against you for your interference with me those many years ago and give my lady an appropriate gift."

Richard struggled against his captors as they tightened his bonds. He could hear his brothers next to him, struggling to remain on their feet as all three were shoved to their knees by the Pict warriors.

The jester approached after they were trussed and spoke to them in his high pitch voice, "Three little knights came a calling, Three little graves need a filling, So I could have a gifting!" He stopped and giggled at his humor.

As he continued, he stopped at each brother, "Oh, this will be the most fun. It is God's own providence that the Duke of Wayne's whelps are delivered to my hand. Had my men not been headed back to Gotham, they wouldn't have spotted your approach. You might actually have been successful in your attempts to kidnap my betrothed."

In front of Timothy, he stopped and pulled his head back by the hair. The younger boy resisted and received a blow to the cheek from the pale hand knocking him to the ground, "Fight in one so young, I shall enjoy removing it." Timothy glared up from the ground as Richard and Jason both tried to reach him.

At Richard, he stopped and giggled, "You're the oldest. I remember you. I owe you and I always repay my debts. " His leg pulled back and landed a kick connecting with Richard's side. Clenching his jaw, he did not cry out, but his body bowed as he tried to gasp for air. He heard his brothers' increasing struggles as they tried to come to his aid and Jason's outraged cry at his brothers' treatment, but the Jester had moved on.

At Jason, he paused and cruel smile curved on his pale face, "One's too old. The other is too young, but you my boy are just right. Perhaps, I'll start with you. You seemed anxious to enjoy my attention. I wonder how much pain the middle whelp can take. Maybe we'll find out or maybe we'll see how much pain he can stand to see his litter mates in, instead?" Nodding to the Picts, the madman laughed an evil laugh as the Picts took the struggling young knights into custody and dragged them from the courtyard.

**_TO BE CONTINUED ..._**


	7. Chapter 7

Thanks to Robin and Patty for beta reading. Hope you all enjoy this part. Char :-)

****

**_Once Upon a Time Part 7:_**

The Pict guards pulled on the chains that bound the young Knights wrists to the castle's wall to make sure they were tightly bound. The young men squirmed in their fetters until the guards shoved their staves into the captives' stomachs. The blow knocked the wind out of the three brothers. The guards laughed as they left the room, bolting the heavy wooden door behind them.

Richard looked at his two younger brothers who were restrained on each side of him. Then he looked up at his bound hands. His hands were above his head, heavy metal manacles about his wrists attached to a large and heavy chain connected to the ceiling of the room. His eyes followed the chain which ran across the ceiling and down the far wall to a wheel. Depending upon how the wheel was turned would determine if they were stretched further or given the slack their arms needed to rest. Richard knew they wouldn't willingly be given the latter. In just the short period of time since he had been bound this way, his arm muscles had started to ache. They couldn't sit, they didn't even have a wall to lean against. They were simply standing in the center of the room, their feet barely touching the floor. Heavy chains anchoring their legs. The very position they were in was meant to exhaust and to torture.

Timothy turned to his older brothers, his young eyes searching their faces for some sign of hope. Seeing none, he asked with a quivering voice, "What's going to happen to us?"

Richard looked at the boy. He wished he could comfort and protect him. Yet, he knew he couldn't and saw no reason to give the boy false hope. "If we're lucky, they'll just kill us."

Jason closed his eyes at his brother's words. How could this be happening? "There has to be something we can do," he added.

Richard turned to his right looking his brother in the eye. "I'm open for any suggestions you have."

Timothy's blue eyes darted around the room frantically. How had this happened to them? Had it only been two days since their lives were normal? Since they were a happy united family. His eyes focused on the heavy door as he heard the bolt moving. His breathing quickened.

Slowly the door opened and a small, dark haired girl moved into the room. Her face was painted blue with symbols of red and brown. Quickly, she closed the door and approached them with caution. Her large brown eyes studied them and their bonds.

The three brothers all watched the strange young woman who walked around them. She was silent as she studied them. Timothy looked to his elder brothers before speaking, "Please help us."

The strange young woman stared at him. "No."

"We haven't done anything," the fifteen year old started to plead.

"Timothy!" Richard said stopping the younger boy's pleas. Sad blue eyes turned to him. Richard turned from the stare and concentrated on the Pict before him. "What do you want here?"

Her dark eyes bored into him. "HE doesn't like you. Why? Why you here?"

"There's a girl, we came to take her "

"Flame haired girl?" she asked inquisitively.

Richard's heart started beating rapidly at the girl's statement. "Yes. Have you seen her? Is she well?"

"Is HIS woman," the Pict girl hissed. "No help you," she said as she turned to leave.

Jason pulled at his bonds, "Wait, wait ."

"No. Not his. She's been stolen. She's NOT his woman. Listen to us," Richard shouted at her. His curiosity was piqued regarding this young woman's relationship to the jester. The young Pict turned around and walked back toward him. "He kidnapped her, he's holding her against her will. We came to take her and leave. That's all. Please. Please. Let him kill me, but my family's lives ... her life ... they depend on your helping us. Free my brothers, I'll stay ... he can take his anger out on me. He won't know about you."

Jason growled, "No way! NO WAY! WE all get out!"

"I not care about her ... or you," she replied defiantly as she wheeled to leave.

They heard her replace the bolt as she left the room. Jason looked at his brothers, "She'll be back. This won't end this way," he said with all the determination of a Wayne. His eyes met Richard's, they wouldn't speak differently in front of Timothy regardless of what they thought.

Jean-Paul rode his horse hard as he headed past the northern borders. He followed the trail of many riders toward the Pict stronghold. He would rescue the king's daughter from the brigands who kidnapped her. They would taste his blade especially Sir Richard of Wayne. That miscreant and all who aided him would pay for this treachery.

Pulling his horse up to a halt, he looked down the hill as the Pict castle came into view. He took in a deep breath as he surveyed the landscape, strategizing his best way to attack. He was a knight alone after unknown numbers. His objective was clear, his plan was not. He needed more information ... information that he could only gather from close range.

Spurring his horse, Jean-Paul rode toward the castle. As he rounded a stand of oak trees near a glen, he was pelted with a rock. Drawing his horse to a standstill, he looked to his left. His eyes grew wide as he saw Lady Dinah standing near the underbrush. She motioned for him to come over. Dropping to the ground, he walked over leading his horse.

"Lady Dinah, what are you doing here?"

"We came after our Lady," she replied in a low voice as she pulled the tall Gaul into the covering.

He saw her sister and five horses. "We?"

"Sir Jason, Sir Richard and their younger brother Timothy. We met them on the road headed here. Stephanie and I were following Barbara's captors and "

"And, fair lady, you rode in with her captors. The two of you are in danger as well as the princess," he said as he found two pair of blue eyes boring into him. "They are villains and no longer nobility, if they ever were. You are wrong to put your faith in such vile curs."

"Are you completely mad? Jason and his brothers didn't kidnap Barbara. These Picts did. They're here to save her," Dinah said with disgust. Why did no one listen to her?

"Timothy and his brothers scaled the wall earlier to rescue Barbara," Stephanie added as she walked closer. "They've been gone many hours now and I'm worried."

Dinah nodded. "They may be in trouble. I think we should find a way in and see if we can help."

Jean-Paul looked at them incredulously. "We? I'll not put ladies in danger."

"I don't think _you're_ doing anything. Stephanie and I can decide what we're doing for ourselves. We're going in to help. You can come or not, that's entirely up to you."

"I'm not 'helping' Wayne's sons. You may believe in their innocence. I know better," he said. Then he grabbed Dinah by the arm. "Don't stand between Richard of Wayne and myself when we face off, Lady Dinah," the Gaul as he started for the stronghold.

Dinah shook her head as she and Stephanie followed him.

In the city of Gotham, the former Duke, his family, and his men were taken through Traitor's Gate into the old Tower of Gotham and down into the bowels of the building. This was the dungeon of the realm. Most people who entered here never left alive. They all knew this as they were moved into the small cell. The room had no windows, no furniture, no hope. The large oak door was bolted behind them.

"There's got to be a way out of here," the young captain of the Wayne guard said as he walked around the small space. Roy watched as Lord Alfred assisted Wallace in easing Garth to the floor. The Lady Leslie was working quickly trying to tend his wound with meager supplies. Roy watched her tearing her underskirt to use as bandage material. His eyes then fell upon his Lord. How had they ended up in this place? "We can escape."

Lord Bruce turned to his former page, now his most trusted Man-at-Arms. "No one ever has," he said as he moved toward the younger man

Roy smiled determinedly. "There's always a first time, my lord."

Bruce clasped Roy's shoulder before moving back toward Selina. He could read the lost expression on her lovely face. These were not the quarters she was accustomed too. How had he brought her to this? When they married those twenty years ago had it been twenty he had promised her a wonderful life. He hadn't meant to lie to her.

Wrapping his strong arms around her, he pulled her close to him. "I'm sorry, my love," he whispered.

"This isn't your fault. You didn't cause this ... some maniac did. We're just victims of a cruel fate." She buried her head on his strong shoulder. For all her talk, she needed his strength, his fearlessness. Selina knew he didn't fear for himself, only those he loved. They shared that fear ... for all those in this room and, even more for the three sons they shared. "They're in danger," she whispered. "I feel it."

"I know," Bruce answered. They had always shared the connection of their children, and with their children. It was a strong bond that held them all together. His boys needed him. Only these granite walls prevented him from riding to their aid. All they had was his training and each other. He hoped that would be enough. He prayed it would save them.

A soft moan escaped Timothy's parched lips as a tingling feeling filtered from his fingers throughout his deadening arms. His shoulders felt as if they were being ripped from his body. His legs ached with pain, although he was starting to lose feeling from them. Perhaps if he couldn't feel his limbs at all, it wouldn't be as bad. Perhaps. Perhaps it would be worse. Already he couldn't move his fingers and his toes. Couldn't feel that he had any. It panicked him at first. His body was dying but his mind was fully alive.

How long had they hung there in the center of this cell? Hours, minutes, seconds ... days. Already time had no meaning. He glanced to his right, to his older brothers who were similarly shackled. Their breathing was heavy, their heads bowed. They hadn't spoken in ... how long had it been?

Timothy was thirsty. He was hungry too. But he knew he wasn't going to be getting anything to eat or drink here. His captors didn't care about him, or his brothers. Maybe they planned to leave them here ... let them starve to death. Maybe. Maybe they planned to do worse.

He looked up as he heard the heavy door creak open. The thin pale man entered the room. He was laughing. No. Not Laughing. Giggling. Pict warriors followed him into their small prison. Timothy turned toward his brothers. Richard and Jason had raised their heads and had focused their attention on the laughing visage of the Jester.

The Jester walked past them clicking off on his fingers, "One, two, three." Jester stopped in front of Jason. "You were there ... in the room ... interfering with me." His bony finger started tracing the bones of Jason's face. Jason tried to jerk away, but he had nowhere to go. The bony hand slapped him with far more strength than he would have imagined the Jester to possess. "Interfering whelp! She was nothing but a common whore "

Jason tried to lunge his body toward the Jester, but his chains held him bound. "Let me go and I'll make you pay for that you " His sentence was stopped as a club from one of the guards pelted him in the stomach.

A wicked grin crossed the Jester's face. "Yes, bwahahaha, yes, yes." He turned to the guards. "Bring him with us." Jester turned and headed for the door.

"NO!" Richard bellowed. "No! You can't ... I won't let you ... "

The Jester turned back toward the eldest Wayne brother. His green eyes seemed to glow with a mixture of anger and madness. "You can stop nothing. You I remember most of all. I'll start with our little volunteer, but I'll be back for you." He turned his attention to Timothy. "But I think I'll take you next."

Timothy's wide blue eyes turned to his brothers.

Richard was watching, helplessly, as the guards unchained his struggling brother. They left his wrists shackled as they tussled with the youth. "Jason! Jason!" he screamed as they pulled his brother from the room. He heard his name called as the heavy door slammed.

Richard turned worried eyes toward Timothy. He read the young boys panicked expression. Saw his youngest brother's breath start to come in hiccoughing spasms. He thought of their father. What he would do in this situation. He wouldn't be in this situation, Richard's mind berated him. A guttural sound escaped his lips as he pulled at the chains.

"Ri-ichard? What are they going to " Timothy's question was stopped short as screams filtered through the passageways of the Pict stronghold and into their cell.

"Jason," Richard whispered as his heart sank.

**_TO BE CONTINUED..._**


	8. Chapter 8

Thanks go out to Robin for her great beta work. I hope you all enjoy. Char :-)

**Once Upon A Time Part 8**

The dark haired girl crept silently down the ruddy corridors of the Pict stronghold toward the locked bedchamber. She had watched the tortures of the Jester's captured victim from the shadows. She remembered the words of the taller brother "Not his woman." If the flame haired girl was not the fiend's woman, then who was she? And who were the three who sought her? She would have her answers and she would have them now.

Entering the room, she made her way to the bed. The knife that had been in her belt was now in her hands as she leaned over the red haired girl. This girl who seemed so very important to the Jester wasn't much older than the Pict girl who stared at her sleeping form. With catlike reflexes, the Pict was beside the girl, one hand covering her mouth while the other held the knife to the red haired girl's throat.

"Why HE want you here?" she asked.

Barbara's green eyes had opened when the Pict grabbed her. Her breathing was heavy as she felt the metal of the blade against her skin. "He's crazy. Please "

"Who dark haired boy?"

"Who?" Barbara asked as she tried to sit, only to be pushed back down by the raven haired Pict.

"Dark haired boy. Eyes like sky. Who?"

Eyes like the sky? Barbara felt her heart jump. "Richard? Richard is here? Where? Please, please take me to him. Please."

The Pict girl released her hold on Barbara and stepped back. She watched the stranger's face as she sat up on the small make shift bed. She read the girl's face, her emotion. Yes, this girl did not belong to the one she hated. She belonged to the one chained on the other side of the fortress. The young Pict girl smiled. "I take." She held her hand out in a gesture of friendship.

Barbara's face brightened into a smile as she tentatively reached out to the now friendly hand. The Pict girl still held the knife, but Barbara felt sure it was to protect and not harm her.

The Pict girl took the Princess' hand and moved swiftly to the door. She looked out into the hallway before they entered. As they made their way down the corridor, she whispered, "I Cassandra."

* * *

The Duke of Wayne and his men, all bound by heavy chains, were led into the grand hall of King James' palace. They took their place in the center of the hall as the King and the assembled nobles sat around the wall. The Duke's eyes defiantly met the king's.

"The Court of Nobles has been summoned," King James began. "Bruce, the former Duke of Wayne, and his men are charged with the highest of treasons. Included in this number are the former Duke's sons Richard and Jason, also stripped of their titles as knights of this realm. We have tried them in absentia. What say you nobles of the charges."

"My liege," the Duke of Kent began. "I have known Wayne for many years. I consider him my friend. I do not now, nor will I ever believe him capable of the treachery you suggest. The evidence presented to this Court has been circumstantial at best. If even that."

"Were you even listening?" the Earl of Queensbury belowed across the hall. "Wayne himself threatened the Princess' life if King James didn't allow his sons to go bring her back here! And I see, we haven't seen those sons of his OR our Princess."

Sighing, the head of the house of Allen stated, "What Lord Oliver says is true." Then he looked to the man who had been his friend for the last twenty years. "Lord Bruce can you deny making that statement?"

Bruce stood in the center of the room where he had silently watched the proceedings. "No, I made that statement."

"Then what are we questioning? Isn't that enough proof that the king's charges against him are valid?" Lord Oliver of Queensbury yelled as he stood from his chair. "Wasn't it Wayne's men that attacked our king?"

Roy turned to his compatriots before hanging his head. There was no doubt that he had led his men into battle against the king's guard. For that, he knew they would surely die. He wasn't worried for himself, but for his friends, and even more, for his lord who was more than liege to him. Lord Bruce was the father Roy had never had, his sons had been his brothers. Unless Lord Bruce could make them understand, all that he fought for and believed in would perish along side him. Looking up, he turned his eyes toward Lord Bruce, silently pleading that he explain himself.

The Duke of Kent stood, asking the question. "Why Bruce? Why did you say that?"

Bruce turned calm eyes toward his friends. "To save my sons."

Kent smiled a sad smile at his friend. "You lied to save your sons."

Lord Bruce simply nodded.

King James' face reddened in anger. "It was not a lie! His son took my daughter. For what purpose, I can only imagine." He stood, picking up the tunic found in the Princess' bedroom the night she was abducted, and he walked down the diadem holding it up. "THIS was found in my daughter's bedchamber. This tunic with the sign of the bat WAYNE'S totem!" he said as he pointed to the former Duke. "Both of his sons were seen wearing these tunics. They left Gotham, at my orders, and my daughter disappeared the very same night. Nothing remained except this. IF the Duke wasn't responsible for Barbara's disappearance, IF what he said was a lie, then it was a lie that allowed the real kidnapper freedom. Wayne's men attacked my guard, attacked me. I want justice! I want your verdict nobles. I say Wayne is guilty of treason! How say you?"

One by one the nobles stood voicing their assent to the Duke of Wayne's guilt. All save one. The Duke of Kent sat motionless in his seat until he felt all eyes upon him. He looked up at his king, then turned to the man who was his friend. "I'll not condemn a man for protecting his family. Lord Bruce is not quilty of the crimes you have charged him with and I'll be no party to this." He stared into the eyes of his friend once more and then stood and walked from the hall. The room echoed with the sound of the heavy doors slamming shut behind him.

King James glared after Kent only a moment before turning on the condemned. "A traitor's death for Wayne and all his party. His sons too, when they return."

* * *

Richard leaned his head onto his arm as he closed his eyes. How long had they listened to Jason's screams before they were silenced ... silenced he feared forever. His heart was heavy ... at his loss and at his failure. Their father had entrusted his brother's safety to him. He was the eldest, he should have protected Jason and Timothy. Instead, he had led them to their deaths. This ... all of this ... had been his fault. Everything his family was suffering, all resulted from his stupidity.

He opened his eyes and turned to his right at Timothy's muffled cries. The child was trying to be so brave, but he was only fifteen years old. The most sheltered member of their family. It was only two days ago ... or was it three ... that he had happily played with their new puppies and now ... now he was going to die. Cruelly, from the sounds of Jason's screams.

"Timothy." Richard started in a soft soothing tone. "Timothy please look at me."

Timothy turned watery blue eyes toward his brother. "Jason? Is he "

"I don't know," Richard lied. In his heart, he knew ... their brother was dead. Yet, he couldn't bring himself to say the words. Hearing it would make it real and he couldn't face that reality. Not now, maybe not ever.

Before either could speak again, the door creaked open. The brothers turned their eyes toward the laughing pale Jester who swaggered in carrying a bloody tunic. He moved between them, rubbing the blood soaked garment on them. "Are we having fun yet my pets?"

Richard stared at the bloody cloth before him. His brother's blood ... Jason's blood ... Wayne blood. He heard Timothy as a hiccoughing spasm caught him. Richard's icy blue eyes bore into the enemy before him. "You will pay for that."

"This?" The Jester said as he held the tunic high then dropped it on the floor like a piece of rubbish. He grabbed Richard by the hair, jerking his head backward. "That was just the first of what the whore's cur's will suffer."

"Let me go and face me," Richard growled.

The Jester only laughed at him. "I think your threats are empty boy," he said. "My plan is working so very well. Princess Barbara is mine, your family is destroyed, and I have the pleasure of killing you and your brothers personally. Then, my triumphant return to Gotham with my lovely new bride. Perhaps I'll take your head to King James as a memento. Bwahahahaha."

Richard struggled in vain against the Jerster's hold. Then the Jester's fist collided with his abdomen knocking the wind from his lungs. The Jester then calmly turned his attention to the youngest person in the room. Tilting Timothy's chin, he started stroking his cheeks. Timothy tried to turn away but had nowhere to turn. The Jester took his long fingernails and raked Timothy's cheek drawing blood and laughing at the youngster's yelp. He slapped the youth's bleeding cheek hard.

"This just felt so right...like it was meant to be." The Jester turned to leave and walked toward the door stomping Jason's tunic as he did so. Then, he turned back, taking a deep satisfied sigh. Spreading his bloody hands, he smiled a wicked smile. "All the little birds came home to die. The little bird dies next."

Richard struggled against his bonds as he watched the Jester slam the door behind him. "Damn him!" His eyes met his younger brother's, "This isn't over Timothy. I promise you that."

* * *

Lady Leslie checked on Garth's wounded shoulder. "Is it feeling any better?"

"Yes my lady," Garth answered with a sad smile. It didn't matter anymore whether his wound healed, soon they would be executed. Yet, Garth couldn't disappoint the kindly lady who had cared for him.

Leslie smiled at him and patted his arm before moving across the cramped cell to her husband. She sat on the floor beside him, locking her arm into his and resting her head on his shoulder. Alfred's hand wrapped around her's.

"This isn't right. Isn't fair," Garth said as he turned to look at Wallace and Roy. "The ladies have done nothing. Lord Alfred has done nothing."

"None of us are guilty Garth," Roy said, leaning back against the cold rock wall. He pulled his leg up, resting his arms around his knee. "It doesn't matter though," he sighed. "They're going to kill us all."

"Not the ladies," Wallace interjected. "The sentence was just for us. They didn't mention the ladies."

Roy looked at his friend. "King James doesn't intend to leave any of us alive. I just pray he's merciful in their deaths. He's spared no mercy for any of the rest of us."

"What ... what is he planning on doing to us?" Wallace asked.

"Don't you know what a traitor's death is?" Roy asked. He watched as Garth and Wallace both shook their heads. Roy remembered the stories Lord Bruce had told Richard, Jason and he as they were growing up, stories of a time before the young Duke married the Lady Selina. Of an uprising that occurred shortly after the Roman's had left their lands and the death that had befallen the traitorous leader of the rebellion. "He's going to have us tortured to death. Hung, drawn and quartered."

Wallace looked down as Garth turned and started nursing his wounded shoulder. Roy leaned his head over on his knee as silence overtook the room.

Bullock, Captain of the King's guard, entered the small cell followed by two of his men. He looked around the room. A wicked grin formed on his face. He pointed at Bruce, Duke of Wayne and his men moved over. They grabbed the Duke by his arms and drug him from the room.

"NO!" Selina cried as Alfred and Leslie moved to her. "NO!" she screamed again as Lord Alfred and Lady Leslie held Selina, keeping her from trying to follow her husband.

Garth and Wallace looked down. Wallace's hands went to his ears, he didn't want to hear his Lady's screams. Roy's green eyes glared at Bullock as he watched the king's men take his struggling liege from the cell. He watched Bullock laugh as he left and slammed the heavy oak door behind him.

* * *

Richard tugged at the chains binding his arms. If only he could get the chains to move, to give just a little. He looked over at Timothy who was trying the same. "Maybe, we can get this to work," he said trying to offer some hope to his younger brother.

Timothy nodded as his fingers tried to wrap around the links and pull, all to no avail. "It'll work, if we keep trying."

Richard couldn't help but smile. Despite their predicament and despite the fear he knew his younger brother had, Timothy had the Wayne determination. He wouldn't give up. Not as long as there was breath in his body. Richard's face became as mask of sadness as he wondered for how much longer that would actually be.

The heavy wooden door creaked open. Richard looked across the room to the door waiting for someone to come in. Waiting for the Jester or his men to come and take Timothy away. He looked above his head and pulled at his chains as hard as he could. He failed Jason, he couldn't fail Timothy.

"Richard."

He turned back toward the door and couldn't believe his eyes as Barbara stepped into the room. Tentatively at first, then her steps quickened as she crossed the room to him. She crossed the distance between them and threw her arms around him, sobbing as she did so. "Barbara."

"I never thought I'd see you again," she cried as she looked up at the chains that bound him. She turned to Timothy and smiled. "We ... we've got to get you out of these chains. How Richard?"

Richard nodded his head, "The wheel ... over there ... turn it to give us slack."

Barbara turned to call out to Cassandra only to find she was alone in the room. She ran to the wheel and started turning it. She stopped as Richard and Timothy cried out in pain. Her trembling hand started turning the wheel in the opposite direction. Barbara bit her lip as she heard the relieved sounds they made as their arms were released from the torturous position they had been in.

Richard felt the thobbing in his arms radiate all over his body and into his ears. Despite the pain, he smiled and reached out for Timothy. "Are you all right?"

Timothy nodded as he pulled himself closer to Richard.

Barbara was at Richard's side. "How do we get the chains off?"

His eyes met hers, "I ... I don't know. I "

"Step back Princess," the Gaul's voice said.

Three pairs of eyes turned to see the Gaul standing over them with drawn sword. Holding his sword over their heads, he glared at Richard. "Finally cur, you will taste my blade."

**TO BE CONTINUED . . .**


	9. Chapter 9

Thanks to Robin and Patty for the beta work. You girls ROCK! Thanks to Tammy for the idea of finish your fic month. I hope those of you who are reading this one like this part. For any newbies this is an ELSEWORLD'S tale. Any comments in italics are the narrator's. Enjoy, Char :-)

_**ONCE UPON A TIME: PART 9**_

_Sir Richard and young Timothy were in grave peril. Not from the fiend who had imprisoned them, but from another. There stood the __Gaul__, his sword drawn, ready to bring it down upon our young knights. The princess and her two ladies in waiting stood not so helplessly behind him._ _Before any of them could act, however, Sir Richard spoke to the __Gaul__ in the language of honorable warriors._

"The Ordeal ... trial by combat." His blue eyes looked up at the Gaul whose long shadow fell over him. "If I'm lying, you'll surely defeat me. If I'm telling the truth, you'll know."

The Gaul's eyes narrowed, his grip on the hilt of his sword tightening. With a powerful blow, he swung the broadsword. The blade sliced through the chains holding Sir Richard down. He turned to Lady Dinah and grabbed her sword, casually tossing it to his opponent. "Un Dieu décidera," the blonde man said as he took a battle stance.

Richard held fast to the sword as he stood. He sliced Timothy's chains, unfettering the boy before he turned to face Jean-Paul. "Ready?"

"More than ready," the Gaul sneered as he advanced upon Richard.

Steel clashed upon steel. Sparks flickered as the swords met each other in mortal combat.

The Princess called out to them. "STOP! I command it!" Both men turned to her, their swords still at the ready. "Have you both taken leave of your senses? My lord, Jean-Paul, you are Prince and heir of Gaul, can you not see that I was here trying to aide Sir Richard. Would I be doing that if he had been my abductor?"

Jean-Paul looked at her then back at the man who was his sworn enemy, then back to the Princess. Hanging his head, he softly replied, "I have been a fool mi'lady. I've allowed my personal feelings to cloud my mind and my judgment." Turning to Richard, he asked, "Your pardon, Sir, for the wrongs I have done you and your family. If you will permit me, my blade shall ever be at your service for the grievous wrong I have done you."

Richard nodded. "All's forgiven if we can all safely escape."

Lady Dinah looked around the small room. "Where's Sir Jason?"

Timothy turned from the group. It wasn't seemly for a knight in training to cry. His hands wiped at his eyes. Grabbing the tattered remains of his brother's bloody tunic, he held it to his chest. Taking a deep breath, he stood and turned to his eldest brother. "We need to go."

"Yes, we do." Richard concurred. Swiftly, he moved to Barbara. "Highness, we need to move as quickly as possible if we're to save our family."

Dinah watched as everyone gathered themselves, readying to leave the foul place. "Where is Jason?" she asked again. heart sinking as her sharp words cut through the room.

Richard looked at her and shook his head. "Everyone who's returning to Gotham ... is already in this room." Dinah's hand went to her mouth to hide the gasp of pain that escaped her lips. Stephanie put a comforting arm around her sister. Timothy lovingly tucked Jason's tunic in his belt. Jean-Paul crossed himself as the princess looked down. His jaw flexing, Richard continued, "Let's go." His heart was breaking at the loss of his brother and best friend, but he had a job to do ... lives to save. Richard's eyes swept the room from the Princess, whom he must return quickly to ensure her safety and to save his father. His heart warred with itself as he desired vengeance for Jason. The raging fever of a growing bloodlust to rend the Jester's limbs from excruciating bit by bit was harshly stamped down. He was Sir Richard of Wayne, knight of the realm and the Dark Knight's son. Sworn duty to the Princess, the King, and his father must come first. He would finish his mission, and then return to drag the Jester from his Keep. He would slaughter the Jester and his men, and raze this place from the earth. Jason would be avenged. When the battle was done, then and only then would he allow himself to grieve.

Timothy bent and grabbed two of the chains from the floor, then moved to Dinah and Stephanie. "Ladies, shall we go?"

Stephanie squeezed Dinah gently and they followed out into the corridor. Sir Richard and the Gaul took the lead down the corridor. Princess Barbara reached out taking Dinah's hand in her own as they followed. Stephanie and Timothy followed, with Timothy's alert eyes sweeping the rear. Despite being exhausted in body and mind, the young boy was trying to be alert and guard.

Richard whispered to the Gaul, "Which way?"

The Gaul pointed his sword to the right. "About twenty cubits then turn to the left. That way leads towards the stables." They silently advanced toward the opening.

Their escape was not assured, however, as they met a contingent of the Jester's Pict soldiers. The Picts presented a fearsome picture with their blue war paint and their animal skin coverings. Their look was meant to terrorize. A fierce wildness played across their eyes. There was something primitive in their battle driven desire, their aching to appease their new lord and king. A fierce war cry erupted from the party and they swiftly advanced upon the outnumbered party unleashing their unrelenting desire for blood. The warriors of Gotham and their Gaul ally attacked the Picts with equal ferocity.

Richard plowed into battle with the Picts. His sword seemed to sing in his hand as it whistled through the air to clang first one Pict sword and then another. Deftly, he disarmed an opponent before his blade sliced the man's chest. He grabbed the falling sword in midair and turning crossed his two swords in an "X" formation. In a scissor-like manuevre, he blocked the two downward thrusting swords aimed at his head and then dislodged them from his enemies hands. As the swords flew from their hand, Richard slammed the hilt of his swords into the face of the two attackers, pummeling them into unconsciousness. His rage unabated, he continued to cut a swath of bloody destruction through the Picts.

Jean-Paul was equally as sure-footed and lethal as his compatriot was as he charged into battle against the Princess' captors. He roared in fury as his sword met skin and bone. He made his way across the battleground like the Angel of Death. Bodies littered the ground around him as he continued his deadly advance across the field of battle.

The young squire, Timothy, snapped the chains out at his enemies trying to keep the three ladies protected behind him. His chain clanking as it wrapped around and caught around a sword. With all his might, he pulled trying to disarm the huge, hulking Pict warrior. The sword did not move. The large Pict laughed as he jerked his sword aloft with young Timothy dangling above the ground clutching the chain. Timothy's mouth was agape. However, he had been perilous situations before and instantly began moving. He was, after all, the younger brother of Richard and Jason. His eyes narrowed and he swung on the chain. Pulling his legs up to his knees and swinging out, he kicked the large man in the chest with all his weight. The giant toppled and Timothy rolled away.

Lady Dinah rushed out, stomped the befallen Pict and grabbed his sword. "Timothy," she called tossing the sword. She kept the chain for herself and leapt into the fray. Barbara and Stephanie close on her heels.

* * *

The heavy wooden door to the cell opened. Bullock and his men tossed the battered and bruised former Duke of Wayne back into the cramped cell. Lady Selina cried out and ran to her husband; Roy, Leslie and Alfred at her heels followed by Garth and Wallace.

"Bruce," she cried. Fighting the exhaustion and pain racking his body, Bruce pushed himself up on his knees. Her slender arms draped around his neck. "I thought I had lost you. I thought they had taken you to ... be ... "

"Not ... yet," his hoarse voice spoke. He allowed Roy and Wallace to help him to the rock hewn seat by the wall. "My death must be ... public," he gasped out. "Public and very painful."

Leslie gingerly fingered the tatters of his tunic as she stared at the whip marks that creased his already battlescared skin. "If I had my salve, I could prevent the infection, but "

Bruce turned taking her hands in his. "Dear Aunt, it does not matter. There's not enough time to heal." He stroked her kind face as tears welled in her eyes. "Alfred?"

"Yes, my boy," the elderly man asked kneeling in front of his nephew. His voice tinged with the sadness his heart felt.

Bruce clasped Selina's hand in his drawing it to his chest above his fast beating heart. "Is there any parchment? I need to send the King a message."

"He won't take it from you," the older man stated in resigned tones.

"I have to try." He looked at the three younger men before him. His heart ached for them as well as his three absent sons. "He only needs one traitor's death. I need to ask for mercy ... for the rest of you."

"My lord," Roy began. He fell silent as Bruce's hand went up.

"King James has wanted this for many, many years. It has nothing to do with any of you. Just me. I cannot save you, but ... if I can make your death's less torturous. I have to try. It is my duty. I must protect my family if I can." Bruce looked around him at his family. The aunt and uncle who raised him; Roy, the young man he raised with his own sons until he could give him the title of Captain of The Wayne Guard; Wallace and Garth who had become close with his sons in their time in his retinue; and finally Selina. His heart melted at the tears in her green eyes. She was the love of his life. He was comforted in the knowledge that their love would survive their deaths.

Bruce wrapped his arms around his wife as his thoughts drifted to their children. He knew what fate awaited him at midday two days hence, but it was the fate of his sons that preoccupied his thoughts.

* * *

The Princess quickly moved into the stables as the battle raged in the courtyard of the Pict stronghold. Stephanie followed her. Barbara turned to her young friend. "Help me with the horses," she ordered.

Nodding, Stephanie helped Barbara bridle six horses. She ran to the stable door and looked out. "They're still fighting. They're all still standing."

"Standing is good," Barbara said as she pulled herself up on the chestnut colored steed, the reins to two other horses in her hands. Stephanie followed suit and they rode out into the melee in the courtyard. "Richard!" the Princess yelled as she galloped toward him.

Richard savagely shoved his sword into the chest of an advancing Pict. His hand twisted the blade as he pulled it out and turned at the sound of his name. The young blood soaked warrior smiled at the vision coming toward him. He raised his sword arm and called to his brother, the Gaul, and Lady Dinah. "To the horses!" He grabbed reins and mane as he pulled himself onto his black horse. He smiled at his Princess' resolve. Stealing back the horse that the Pict's had stolen from where he had moored him outside the earthen castle was a profound feat. She amazed him. "To Gotham!"

The riders tore out of the castle gate at the fastest gallop they could muster. They headed down the South road. Each knew that the Picts would shortly follow them and they wished to gain as much of a head start as they could. The Gaul rode up beside Richard. "I know a place where we may be able to lose our enemies. I noticed it on my way here."

"Lead on friend Gaul," Richard said allowing the other man to take the lead.

* * *

"ARGHHHHHHH" the pale thin man yelled as he stormed around the Pict stronghold. "Find them! Find them! Find them!" he screeched. "I haven't had all my fun yet! And they took my bride!"

A small number of Picts followed him as he ranted through the corridors. Hidden in the shadows, the dark haired Pict girl watched. When the Jester had moved toward the courtyard, she backtracked her way to the oubliette at the back of the castle. Grunting, she removed the iron grate and peered into the darkness.

"Who's ... there?" the weak voice cried out barely audible.

The girl looked around and quickly moved to the wall. She tied a rope to the spikes built into the wall. Her hand traced the swords that the spikes held. They would soon be utilized as well. Running back over, she dropped the rope. "Come up."

The rope drew taut as the prisoner grabbed hold and began his climb. She could hear his heavy breathing and an occasional groan as he made his way out of the place of forgetting. Jason's hands clasped the rim of the oubliette and he pulled himself out. "Why did you help me?"

"You kill white faced man?"

Jason's eyes narrowed. "Most assuredly, mi'lady." He was embarrassed to be in the presence of a young lady without clothing covering his upper body, even a young lady as strange as this girl with the blue painted face.

"Then I help."

"I still don't understand why," he stated as she showed him the swords hanging on the wall. Smiling, Jason pulled one of the swords out. "Let's rescue my brothers."

She placed her hand on his arm, halting him from advancing. "They ... not here. Left."

"They left?" His mind contemplated Richard leaving without him. "They think I'm dead, don't they?"

The dark-haired girl nodded. "Flame-haired girl go with them," she reported.

Jason nodded. "Good. They need her to save our family and with them gone, I'm free to act. Thank you for your help. I don't even know your name. I'm Jason of Wayne."

"Cassandra," the girl said pointing to her chest.

"Thank you Cassandra." He watched as she pulled the other sword off the wall.

Cassandra pointed toward the courtyard. "We go. Kill evil one."

"Indeed." Jason followed her as she stealthily made her way through the stronghold. Her movements were cat like in their precision, as well as concealment. Jason was impressed. "If you help me, you won't be able to stay here will you?" She nodded her head. "Why are you helping me against your people?"

"He not ... my ... people."

"What'd he do to you?" Jason asked as they made their way down a deserted corridor.

"Killed ... father."

"I'm sorry," Jason said, his head lowering in a quick prayer. He turned to look at the strange girl and saw the sadness in her eyes. "I promise you, I shall dispatch the Jester and then mi'lady, I shall take you with me to my lands. My mother and father will treat you as their own child."

"That might be hard to do without a head," the Jester laughed. Then looking at Jason he shook his head. "So much for the long, drawn out painful death. I suppose I'll have to just kill you quickly. Maybe I can starve one of your brothers to death instead."

"They aren't here," Jason countered as he moved into a battle stance.

"They'll be back," Jester laughed. He drew another sword from the wall arsenal. "I've learned a lot in the ten years since you caused my exile." He twirled the sword in his hands. "I should have killed you and your cur brother in the beginning of this. Although, I must admit the anticipation of your blood on my sword is absolutely delicious." Jester lunged at Jason and steel sparked in the corridor.

The Pict girl, Cassandra, roared in fury at the two Picts accompanying the Jester. Running at them, she stabbed one in the leg above the knee and kicked out at the other man. Pulling her sword from the first man she pirouetted, swinging the sword with all her might she sliced the oncoming second Pict in the abdomen. She did not watch him fall as she turned to thrust forward with her sword engaging the other wounded man in battle.

Jester and Jason faced off against each other. The young warrior was mindful of his footing. He remembered the lessons his father had taught him well. "Keep your footing on solid ground and do not give ground, only take it." The Dark Knight's voice rang out in his head. Moving forward, Jason began to take his ground.

Jester swung wildly with the sword in his hand. There was no recognizable form to his movements, no predictability to his movements. Jason feigned left, but Jester bent down striking the calf of his opponents leg. Jason stumbled as the Jester's wicked cackle filled the hall. He brought his sword down, but Jason rolled out of the way. Jester kicked the boy in vexation and moved to strike again.

Rolling with the kick, Jason brought himself up, sword in hand.

"Aren't you dead yet?" the Jester asked, frustration in his voice.

"Not until I take you with me," Jason replied.

Blade met blade. The battle engaged once more. The two men warred near where the two Picts sliced at each other. Seeing an opening, Cassandra plunged her sword beneath the Pict's arm skewering the man. He staggered backwards into the fight between Jason and the Jester. His body fell between them in his death rattle, disarming the two combatants. The youth stumbled under the dead man's weight while the Jester fell into the wall.

Cassandra yelled a Pictish battle cry as she advanced upon the Jester. The evil man giggled as he grabbed hold to a cudgel he pulled from the wall. Swinging it out, he smashed her in the face and watched her tumble to the ground. Smiling, he turned toward the youth. "Time to die, little boy."

Jason began to panic as the Jester approached him with the short, heavy club. He found his strength and pulled himself out from under the dead Pict's body. He stumbled as he tried to stand. The Jester swung the cudgel at him, but Jason dodged and the weapon smashed into the earthen wall of the stronghold. Jester swung it again at Jason. "Stay still at die."

The youth grabbed for his fallen sword as the club was brought down on his back. Jason screamed in pain. As Jason twisted in pain, the club descended again striking him in the side of his head. The blood began pouring from his temple and his eye began to swell closely. The pain radiated throughout his body, pulsating in throbbing agony. However, he had to fight back. He could not give in to the pain that was racking his body and sending a blinding red pounding across his vision. Jason reached out blindly for the hilt of his sword, his fingers stretching to grab the weapon.

Jester threw the heavy club down on the boy eliciting another cry as ribs cracked under the heavy blow and reached to pick up his sword. Pulling the sword over his head, he smiled down at the boy below him as his evil cackle echoed through the corridors of the earthen castle. The Jester swung. Jason's hand closed on the hilt of his sword. Jason turned blindly swinging to block the unseen blow. One blade cut true and a head left a neck leaving crimson blood splattered across the earthen wall.

_**TO BE CONTINUED ...**_


	10. Chapter 10

Thanks to Patty and Robin for their great beta work. I finished a fic for Finish your fic month! WOOHOO I hope you all enjoy it. Char :-)

_**ONCE UPON A TIME: Part 10:**_

"NOOO! JASON NOOOOOOO!" Selina screamed herself awake. Bruce's strong arms wrapped around her trembling body. Her panicked green eyes' frantic gaze swept around the cramped rock hewn cell.

"Darling," Bruce calmly spoke hiding his own escalating hopelessness, "It's all right."

Her desperate gaze locked onto his calm blue eyes. He was only a day away from execution, yet he calmly soothed her with the words it was "all right", but she was still consumed with this overwhelming feeling of dread. Looking around, she saw the other concerned eyes staring at her. "I ... I dreamed about Jason ... that he was ... dead. Jason was dead. He was bloody and beaten and " She looked up into her husband's face imploring him to make it right, to assure her of their child's safety.

His strong arms wrapped comfortingly around her, his jaw flexed. Bruce did not know what to say to his wife. All of their children were in danger and he could not truthfully tell her that her dream was baseless. He could not soothe her fears as much as he wanted to. All he could do was pull her tightly to him, her head resting on his strong chest and his hands stroking the back of her head. "It ... was just a dream. You're worried about ... everything ... and that caused the dream."

Her body shook in his arms. "I don't know ... I hope so. I " her hand rubbed her middle. She ached for her children and longed to see them, yet she knew it would be more dangerous for them to be here than wherever they were. Selina could only pray that her dream was wrong and that her children were safe and alive somewhere. She also prayed that they would never return to Gotham.

The massive door creaked open and the eyes of the occupants of the cell turned toward it. The Duke of Kent entered the tight quarters. His hand waved for the guard to close the door behind him.

"You shouldn't be here," Bruce said.

"Perhaps," he answered. Kent moved over and sat beside the former Duke of Wayne. "I've tried to talk to King James. To have him stay his hand."

"Unsuccessfully."

"Yes. However, he has agreed to spare the ladies. He'll send them to the convent in Bristol after the executions. Lord Alfred, he's agreed to be _merciful _with you. He'll give you the choice between poison or beheading. But the rest of you," the Duke of Kent shook his head and sighed.

Leslie clutched at her husband and cried while he consoled her, gently patting her back and whispering, "There, there my dear." He looked into the sad eyes of the Duke of Kent. He had been friends with Lord Clark's father many years ago just as Bruce and Clark were friends now. "Please convey my gratitude to my liege; however, I shall take the scaffold with my nephew."

"Uncle," Bruce began only to be silenced by Alfred's upraised hand.

Kent nodded. "I will convey your message, Lord Alfred."

"My men," Bruce began. "Kent, could you plead with his grace? They do not deserve to die so horribly." He looked across the cell at the three young men, none more than twenty years. Roy covered his face with his hand; Garth tried to preoccupy himself with the wound in his shoulder; while Wallace simply looked down, his breathing coming in quick gasps.

The Duke of Kent shook his head. "I have already tried, my friend. They attacked the king. He will not allow that to stand."

Bruce nodded. He understood. "Midday on the morrow then."

"Yes," Kent replied with a sad resolve.

* * *

"Do you think this will work?" Timothy whispered to his brother as they lay in the dew wet grass watching the hill.

Richard nodded. "I think the Gaul's plan has merit."

"I hope it works," Timothy replied, his eyes watching for the Pict raiders who followed them. He felt the ground reverberate before he heard of saw anything. "Something's "

"They're coming," Richard answered. He held his sword aloft so it sent a glistening message across the rise to Jean-Paul.

The knights waited until they saw the Pict riders, and waited until they were almost on the edge of the precipice. When the Picts were positioned where the knights wanted them, the British forces stood lifting the taut rope knee high on the advancing horses. The horses whinnied and nayed as they ran into the rope, and then their legs buckled. The horses along with their riders rolled. Horses and riders flew in to empty air as they fell off the hill plummeting to their doom.

Richard smiled as he dropped the rope and ran to his horse followed by Timothy. He quickly lifted Barbara on to her horse, jumped on his steed, and they sped away toward Gotham. They met up with their three companions at the bottom of the hill. "Sir Jean-Paul that was an excellent plan."

"Oui, mon ami, now let us return to King James. Time draws short for your family."

Richard nodded. Barbara's eyes grew wide. "Short? What do you mean?" Richard did not answer her. Instead, he rode hard, pressing his horse to its fastest speed. Barbara galloped up beside of young Timothy. "What do they mean time runs short for your family?"

Timothy turned to face her; his young blue eyes seemed to bore into the Princess. "Your father accused us of your abduction. If we don't return to Gotham with you by tomorrow, our family dies."

Barbara turned away from Timothy. Her eyes looked to the front of the group of riders falling upon Richard's back. Her father couldn't have Richard's family killed. It was just ... wrong. Her mind refused to accept it. Her father was a fair and just ruler. He would never execute nobility without due cause and yet … in this topsy turvy world, what if it was true? They would stop it, they had too. She looked up at the sun; there was no way they could make it back in time.

* * *

"I grant you pardon and absolution from your sins," Father Hal spoke softly as he made the sign of the cross above Garth. It was the last of the confessions he had heard this morning in giving the last rites to the condemned in this cell. He took no pleasure in his solemn duties, only consolation in the confidence of his actions. As their confessor, he knew they were not guilty of the crimes which condemned them. Father Hal could only shake his head. He turned and walked back to the Bruce, former Duke of Wayne. "I wish I could do more," he stated.

"You've done all that can be done, Father, and I thank you for that." Bruce looked beyond the priest to his wife and aunt.

"They will be well cared for. Sister Helena will see to that. Do not go into the next world worrying about their safety. Convent life is not what they have had, but they will ease into their new world. They will find comfort at Glastonbury amidst their grief."

Bruce's strong, wide chest heaved and he turned toward the wall. He felt the priest lay a comforting hand on his arm. "Death ... doesn't scare me. It never has. What they're going to do to me out there ... doesn't scare me. But knowing that she is going to be in pain, leaving her alone, that is what I cannot bear."

"We will care for her. We will care for both of them."

The heavy wooden door screeched open and Bullock's hulking form loomed in the doorway, "It's almost time. Say your goodbyes."

Selina cupped her mouth as a muffled whine escaped her lips. "No," she whispered as she ran into her husband's arms. "No Bruce, my love. This can't be happening. Please, please don't let this happen. I cannot lose you."

Bruce wrapped his strong arms around Selina. Leaning his head over, he took in the smell of her, the feel of her. That was what he would take with him on whatever journey lay for him beyond death. "Selina," he started slowly. His voice one that only she could hear. "I have loved you all my life. From the moment I first bumped into you. Before that moment, I had never been truly alive. You are not going to lose me. You will never lose me." He tilted her head so they stared into each other's eyes. "I love you, my darling, and that love will never die."

She looked up at him, tears watering her emerald eyes. "And I love you. With all my heart, my soul and my being. Forever."

Leaning down, he pulled her to him, kissing her one last time. "Come," he bade her as he walked to his aunt and uncle, Selina's arm still wrapped around him. Leslie cupped his face and he covered her hand with his own. "This was the hand that comforted me when I was a child. I take comfort from it still. Don't grieve me now, Aunt Leslie."

Alfred stood behind his wife and looked at the boy they had raised. His brother's child that became their child. "I am and always have been proud of you, my son."

Sad resolution fell over Bruce's face as he nodded.

"It's time," Bullock barked.

Bruce turned toward the door and his eyes fell upon the three young men condemned with him. "Look," he said. "They stand without anyone to comfort them, without anyone to mourn them. We must ..." Bruce moved toward them before he finished. His unsaid wishes were not lost on his family who approached the young men as well.

Selina moved over to Wallace. Tilting his head up, she kissed his cheek as if he were one of her own sons.

"Mi'lady?" Wallace said softly, somewhat confused.

She smiled sweetly at him, her eyes glistening with tears. "I shall never forget you, dear Wallace, nor your kindness, bravery, and humor." Selina pulled the young man into her arms. At the moment he was a son without a mother and she was a mother without her sons. They filled the void each had.

Leslie hugged Garth. The young man expressed his gratitude to her. "Thank you mi'lady. For your kindness in tending me this past week," the soft spoken youth said.

"It was my honor, Garth," she replied as Alfred joined her cupping his hand on the young man's shoulder.

Bruce placed his hand upon the shoulder of the Captain of his guard. "Roy," he began, as the young man looked him in the eyes. "I have raised you with my own sons since you were twelve. No father could be prouder of you than I am."

"Lord Bruce, no son could feel more for a father than I feel for you," Roy

Bruce clasped Roy's shoulders. "Then hold your head up, stand tall beside me on the scaffold, and die as you have lived, as one of my sons. There is no shame in dying for innocent men."

"Out! Now!" Bullock ordered.

The Duke turned his fierce glare on the Captain of the King's guard. Unnerved, Bullock stepped back. Wayne proudly walked from the cell followed by his retinue. Selina's eyes followed him for as long as she could before the door closed behind them. Slowly, she walked to the heavy wooden door and laid her trembling hand upon it. "Oh, Bruce."

Leslie laid her hands on Selina's shoulders as the priest and sister attempted to comfort her as well. They did not stand idle long, as the door shoved open again.

"Come," the guards ordered.

Father Hal stepped forward. "These ladies are going to the convent with "

"After the execution. First, they watch."

_Proudly, the Duke of Wayne, his uncle and his men walked from their Tower cell through the stone structure to Traitor's gate. There the guards bound their hands before roughly shoving them outside into the sight of the large, waiting crowd. King James had promised their death would be a spectacle and he was a man of his word. The sound of the drummers caused all eyes to focus on the scaffold and the prisoners who were being brought out for execution._

Bruce's eyes hardened as he was shoved into the bright sunshine. He walked behind the guards and drummers, his eyes forward, his head erect. The crowd shouted taunts at him. Bruce felt his jaw flexing. He refused to turn toward the crowd. His mind, however, could not help but betray him. Reminding him of the times the crowds cheered him as the young knight besting all others in the tournaments, as the conquering hero returning from an expedition enlarging the King's holdings, as the Dark Knight the most renowned warrior protector of the realm. Bruce remembered it all, while the crowd seemed to remember nothing.

"Traitor" they called him when they were being kind. Few were kind. Other, crueler words stabbed at him but he refused to react. They would see his death, they could revel in it, but Bruce, Duke of Wayne, would not give them the pleasure and satisfaction of seeing him squirm.

He wanted to turn and provide comfort to his men behind him, but there was no comfort in what they were about to endure. Bruce felt Roy's presence as the young man closely followed him. Bruce knew that Roy's eyes were focused on him. Roy's resolve would come from Bruce. He looked straight ahead, past the scaffold and the nooses hanging down, to the King's diadem. The nobles of the land sat around the King. Only one of the nobles was not there to enjoy the show. The Duke of Kent made one, last, valiant effort to stay the king's judgment.

"My liege, this is not right. Wayne is not guilty. Do not do this. I beg of you, King James. Please do not do this. Show mercy, great King."

However, the King's grief in the loss of his only child and heir was all encompassing and he was beyond compassion or reason. "There is no mercy for the man who abducted my daughter, the man who publicly questioned my law." James turned tired, resolute eyes on his most powerful Duke. "You would be well to remember Wayne's fate before you continue further."

Kent's deep blue eyes narrowed. He turned and left the King's diadem, his crimson cape flapping behind him. Bruce inwardly sighed as he watched his friend of many years turn rebuffed and leave the diadem. Behind him, he heard Wallace gasp as the full sight of the gallows came into view.

"Oh my God," Wallace whispered as the reality of their situation pressed down upon him.

"I know," Garth whispered back before the guards flanking them pushed them forward. The two young soldiers were pelted with rotten fruit and stones by the crowds assembled to watch them die.

"Pay it no heed, lads," Alfred's calm voice spoke from behind them. "Being unkind makes them feel important. They are a mob. By definition, a group of base cowards reveling in their importance by causing pain. It is ignorance in action."

"How can anyone," Wallace started before using his bound hands to deflect flying debris, "feel important belittling people in their last ... this is so hard."

"Ignore it Wallace," Garth responded. "It doesn't matter anymore." They followed Bruce and Roy up the steps onto the platform to the baying of the crowd.

The guards held Lord Alfred back. His execution was to follow the torturous demise of the four. His torture was in watching theirs. Alfred struggled as two guards held him by his arms. The remaining guards held fast to their prisoners as they marched each below the nooses. Bruce's eyes glared across the courtyard at the King. Their eyes met, and King James' anger grew as he read the defiance still evident in Wayne.

The black hooded executioner stood behind the Dark Knight. He pulled the hemp rope over Bruce's head, securing and tightening the noose around his neck. Slowly the executioner moved down the line to Roy, Wallace and Garth. He secured the noose around all of their necks, the coils of the twisted rope resting behind their left ear.

Bruce looked down to the foot of the scaffold and saw her for the first time. "Selina," he said softly. She stared up at him, her green eyes brimming with tears. Leslie and Sister Helena held her in their arms trying to comfort her. He heard his aunt telling her to remember she was a Lady and to watch with dignity, bearing what she must. However, Selina was inconsolable. Bruce ignored the executioner reading their death warrants for treason against the King. He ignored Father Hal saying one last blessing for the condemned. His thoughts were solely upon the love of his life and the pain she would endure watching his death.

The drummers pounded out their death cadence. Then the drums stopped. Silence filled the courtyard. All eyes were upon the four men on the scaffold. Bruce's eyes remained steadfast upon Selina. King James signaled the executioner and the condemned were painfully hoisted into the air.

The Duke of Kent paced, his chest heaving with each step. He looked back up at the diadem. "King James, I beg you stop this before it is too late."

The king did not look down until the condemned were dropped to the scaffold floor for the minutes reprieve before they were hoisted for the second time. Selina pulled from Leslie's grasp, and she rushed the scaffold. Her soft hand reached up to caress her husband's face.

Bruce's bound hands instinctively tugged at the rope around his neck. His pulse thundered in his ears. His eyes looked at her, then past Selina to the diadem.

James looked down at his noble, the Duke of Kent. Dismissively, he responded, "This continues."

"Look at the suffering you're causing, my liege. Needless suffering," Kent said pointing at the scene below them. "Do not throw away your kingdom and the loyalty of your oath sworn lords."

"I am your King!" James bellowed standing from his throne. "I am the Lord God's chosen to rule. You would be wise to remember that, and not test my tolerance further. I will see my daughter avenged. Be careful that I do not consider your interference to be a part of that treason."

The Lord of Kent turned hard steel blue eyes to stare at his King. "You have my word, King James. If you ever have need to charge me for treason, it will be for more than asking plea for mercy for innocent men." Their eyes locked. "You have left me no choice. My treason would be this," The Knight of Steel said pulling his sword and holding it aloft, "ARCHERS! QUARRELS AWAY!" A squad of archers wearing the distinctive blue and red colors of the Dukedom of Kent stepped up from their perch across the courtyard atop the city gates.

Bruce's eyes narrowed at the scene unfolding before him. Before he had time to comprehend it all, the rope around his neck tightened once more lifting him off the wooden flooring. Selina's scream echoed in his ears. His hands fought frantically at the rope, trying to loosen the unyielding grip, to find some way to get breath into his strangling body.

The Duke of Kent had chosen the surest archers from his troops and those of the Dukedom of Wayne for this initial volley and they did not fail him. Their arrows sped away toward the condemned who were jerked upward high above the scaffold for the final and deadly time. Screams echoed from the crowd, screams of panic as well as anger. Horses galloped through the gate and into the scattering crowds. The charging crowd, horses, and armed men collided in a chaotic conflict.

The arrows flew straight and true, finding their mark severing the ropes hanging the Duke of Wayne and his men. The four fell to the scaffold with a deafening thud. Lord Alfred jerked away from the guards holding him. "Bruce!"

King James stood, ignoring the chaotic clashes and cries of battle, and pointed, ordering his guards, "Kill the prisoners NOW! Arrest the Duke of Kent immediately!"

Selina screamed again and tried to reach Bruce on the platform. The guard near her drew his sword, approaching her menacingly. Father Hal stepped between the three women and the king's guard. "These good ladies are under my protection. Now while I am but a humble man of God, I pray you leave them be." His left hand was out palm up to the guard in a gesture of peace; his right hand had slipped beneath his cassock. The guard grunted and continued to approach. Father Hal sighed and pulled a Roman style sword from beneath his cassock. "Let me warn you, I was not always a simple man of the cloth, I used to be a Roman centurion. Advance further and I will send your soul to God with my prayers for God's boundless mercy for even your worthless soul, my son."

Bullock and his men advanced upon the fallen Duke of Wayne. Bruce's bound hands pulled at the tight noose. He looked up with hard, angry, blue eyes as Bullock pulled his sword. A hoarse growl escaped his parched lips as he dove into Bullock's center sending them both over the side of the scaffold. Using his bound hands, Bruce pummeled the King's Captain in the face. Bullock's had shot forward with a twisted metal dagger, the blade oily with poison toward the Duke's neck. Bruce twisted, but bound he would not be able to avoid the promise of a swift but horrible death by poison. Even as Bullock staggered back from Bruce's crushing blow to the Captain of the Royal Guard's face, the dagger swiftly descended. Just as Bruce registered his imminent death, a clash of metal knocked the blade away. Bruce swung hard again, into Bullock's body and the massive guard fell to the groan in pain. Bruce delivered a smashing kick to Bullock's head and whirled. His eyes following his savior's blade back to its owner and stared into the face of his eldest. Richard spurred his steed past his father and engaged the King's guard as they drew swords on the fallen prisoners.

Richard leapt from his horse, sword flashing in the bright midday sun. The sword smashed into a guardsman's downward arcing sword inches away from a killing blow to his friend and Captain of the Wayne Guard, Roy. "I thought I told you to go save my father," he said as he freed Roy from his bonds.

Reaching down, Roy grabbed a sword and kicked the fallen guardsman in the face. "I remember that. I went."

"You weren't doing a very good job," Richard countered. Richard's blade whipped forward again, against a pair of guards. The blade buried deep in the breast of the nearest and his hand punched forward into the throat of the next, sending him stumbling. Richard's bloodied sword withdrew from the first guard as he turned and brought his blade to bear on the stumbling guard. The slashing sword gutted the King's guard and he collapsed into a metal bloody heap. The two deaths, took less than a minute and Richard was on the move to the next group of charging guards before Roy could reply.

"Everyone's a critic," Roy shouted at Richard's back as Roy engaged another guard in battle. "He's still alive!" Roy's sword danced forward underneath the charging guard's arm. The blade sunk deep in the guard's chest and he fell back. Roy withdrew the sword by kicking the guard away and moved to the nearest guard closing on the Duke of Wayne's flank. Roy grabbed an arrow from a nearby body. He whirled and in a backhand motion, jabbed through the eye slot of an approaching guard. The guard screamed, dropped his sword and Roy finished his pirouette with blade finding the throat of the guard, silencing the guard forever

As Roy charged deeper into the fray in defense of his Lord and fellow warriors, Timothy appeared beside Father Hal. The Father was about to impale the approaching guard, when Timothy's sword cut across the guard's midsection. The guard lost his footing and Timothy put his light frame into a killing blow, driving the bloodied blade deep into the chest of the guard. He turned quickly and joined his Mother's side, "Mother?" Selina smiled at him. Timothy smiled back and turned his sword to protect his mother, aunt and the deceptively peaceful Father Hal. Timothy launched into the fray facing off against an oncoming warrior. He smacked the hilt of the soldier's sword knocking it out of the guards hand and into the air. Timothy's foot lashed out, catching the guard in the gut, and as the guard fell back, the sword flipped from his hand. Young Timothy caught it by the hilt. A split second later, he sent the blade whirling forward impaling an attacking guard at Wallace's feet. Timothy waved at Wallace who grabbed the sword from the fallen body and advanced into the fight.

Wallace sped forward, slashing at the nearest guard. His sword flew into the guard, cutting into his leg. Wallace kicked forward, knocking the man down to the blood stained ground. The guard rolled with the momentum and tried to regain his footing. Wallace brought the hilt down on the back of the guard's head. A split second passed and Wallace ducked under a swing of a closing guard. The swishing blow missed his head by a hair's width, but Wallace was already moving, bowling into the oncoming attacker. They fell into a tangled mass of legs, metal and grasping arms. Wallace blocked a dagger blow and brought his fist down on the dagger wielding arm. The dagger slipped from the guard's grasp and quicker than the eye could follow, it fell into Wallace's hand, and then it was buried in the guard. From his position on the ground, Wallace rolled forward, knocking another guard down as he closed on Garth who was frantically working on his bounds.

Before Wallace could call out a warning, a sharp beveled long blade descended. Garth pulled back from certain death only to hear the Gaul curse him and command him still. "Mon Dieu, stop moving before I take one of your hands. You think it easy to cut those ropes from horseback?"

Garth confused, held his hands forward and the sharp blade hewed the ropes in two in single smooth stroke. The Gaul leapt to the scaffold and immediately cut the King's forces by a third. He raised the polished blade over his head and his voiced roared out in regal authority, "Men of Gaul! Protect Lord Wayne! My sword belongs to them." His men changed the direction of their advance at his command. Following the order of their Prince, the Gaul troops engaged the Gothamites in battle.

Lord Bruce used Bullock's sword to split his bonds before disarming the unconscious Captain of his weapon. His eyes quickly surveyed the situation before he joined his two sons in the battle. "Where's Jason?" Bruce growled out to Richard as his son returned to his side. He had not seen his middle son anywhere in the combat in the courtyard. Richard dropped his head for a minute; he could not meet Bruce's eyes. The silence between them was deafening before Richard turned away, and charged into battle, mowing down two unfortunate Gotham guards as they turned toward his father. His silence told Bruce more than words ever could. A cold gripped his spirit more than the pain of the noose. The cold then turned into a white hot rage. He looked around the battlefield. The red and blue of Kent's and the black of Wayne's colors identified the defenders and they waded with savage intensity into the King's guard, breaking their lines of defense. The blue and gold fleur-de-lis of the Gaul troops flashed as the Gauls fought on the side of the two Duke's troops. Then Lord Bruce's eyes settled on the King James leaving the diadem. "You killed my son." He ground the words out as his heart clinched at the certain knowledge that hope was lost for Jason. He bellowed the words, "YOU KILLED MY SON!" at the certain knowledge of who was responsible and who would pay for his son's death.

Bruce dove off the scaffold and plunged into the fight intent on making his way across the courtyard. He made his way through the king's guard like a feral lion. As a man possessed, every swing of the blade or blow from his hand brought a soldier to the ground. He stabbed, he hacked, and he sliced. Lord Bruce's prowess on the battlefield was well renowned throughout the kingdom. Even injured as he was, there was no match for him on the field. Where he swept through the maelstrom of battle, he left carnage in his wake. All in his unrelenting advance toward his enemy, King James. The same king he had served so many years. Nothing would stop him. No one would stand in his way. This was no mere skirmish but a Battle Royal.

Barbara and her ladies had ridden through the melee toward the diadem. "Has the world gone mad?" Dinah asked riding beside her Princess.

Barbara turned to her nodding her head as she pulled her horse up at the foot of the diadem. "FATHER!" Barbara called, jumping down from her horse and running up the stone steps to meet her father. "What's going on? Stop this! Now!"

King James and the Duke of Kent were locked in combat, sword to sword. Kent pushed a chair between them, giving James the time to stop, and hopefully to think. The king grabbed his daughter pulling her to him. "Daughter, you're alive. Are you unharmed?"

"Yes," she said. Looking around at the battle surrounding them, she saw the Duke of Kent as he jumped down from the diadem fighting his way toward his friend. Barbara looked at her father with wide, confused eyes and she questioned him, "Father, what is this madness?"

"Wayne had you abducted " the King began. Anger shown clearly on his face.

"No! No he didn't! Your former Jester rules the Picts now. He had me taken. Sir Richard saved me!"

James' eyes narrowed, "The Jester ... " he contemplated his daughter's words as the world turned topsy-turvy around them. He looked out at his kingdom in turmoil. Wayne had not been responsible for kidnapping Barbara, but Wayne and Kent's men attacked his men in the very seat of his power. Should they not pay for this treason if not for the first?

"Father ... stop this " the princess turned toward the battle raging before them.

"I ... cannot. Kent and Wayne ... defied me."

"You were executing Lord Wayne, Father! And they're innocent! You can't blame them for "

"SILENCE! I am the king. Their very lives belong to me. I say if they live or die and I had decreed they die."

Her green eyes flashed with anger. "Then you decreed wrong! Order this to stop! NOW!" Barbara faced off against her father. She had endured much this past week, but standing against her father was the hardest thing she had ever done. However, the young princess was steadfast in her resolve. "Now Father!" She had worried they would not make it back to Gotham in time. Had it not been for Richard's short-cut across Wayne lands, they would have been too late. She would not back away from what she knew was the right path, regardless of whether it set her against her father.

Richard turned in a pirouette, his sword taking out two of the king's men. He did not stop for a breath and kept moving. His eyes found his father's back in the courtyard. Lord Bruce was moving toward the King's diadem. The Dark Knight left bloody carnage in his wake. Finally, Richard stopped as the realization of the situation hit him squarely in the face. His father was attacking the King. The King was Barbara's father. Barbara was with her father. "Oh my God, this cannot be happening." Richard ducked as a blade swished over his head.

His attacker screamed as an arrow plunged through his back. Looking up, Richard smiled. "Roy!"

The red headed soldier nodded. "I believe that makes us even." He smiled good naturedly before he turned firing his appropriated arrows at their attackers. The solid dual thunks sounded ahead of Richard as Roy split fired the arrows. Two more arrows flew and another guardsman fell, and then another, another two, and another one in rapid order as Roy hopped to a better vantage point. Richard used the clearing Roy's skill with the bow provided to run after his father. This madness had to be stopped before it was totally out of control. If it wasn't already too late.

"Wayne," Kent shouted as he moved beside his friend.

Lord Bruce was oblivious of all around him save his target, King James. "You killed my son!" Bruce roared as he stood at the bottom of the stone steps leading to the diadem. "Jason is dead because of you."

King James' face was flushed with anger. "He was a knight. Dying in battle is part of his duty."

The Duke of Kent turned from the sight, his eyes finding his own young son Conner engaged in the battle. His side was already chosen. Sword at the ready, he turned back to his friend. He understood the love a father has for his son and understood the rage at the needless loss of young life. A loss caused by the king's merciless unreasoning. He had pledged his sword, army and blood to right this injustice and he would back the Duke of Wayne to the very end, no matter what that end would be.

"He was a boy! He died because you sent boys to rescue your daughter rather than knights and soldiers. You are responsible, and for that you will die."

"NOOOOO!" Barbara screamed as she jumped between her father and the Dark Knight's savage sword.

"FATHER NO!" Richard called as he joined his father on the steps, maneuvering himself between the Princess and his father.

"Richard. Stand. Away."

The young knight's chest was tight. He had never disobeyed his father. He understood his father's rage over Jason's death. Richard shared it. Shared the indignation in the way their King had treated their family. However, too much blood had been shed. If his father killed the King, then Princess Barbara would have no choice but to seek his head. The nobles would demand it. Sir Richard was not the court strategist, but even he knew this could only end with everyone he loved dead. Their best hope was Princess Barbara and bringing the true villain to light. "No ... Father." His blue eyes stared into his father's hard blue eyes. "Please."

The Duke of Wayne looked into the face of his eldest child. Their blue eyes locked with each other. He read Richard's silent plea to stop the fighting and spare the king. Looking into Richard's face, Bruce also saw Jason's. His heart felt as if it had been gripped by a vice. The vice tightened as he heard Jason's laughter. It cranked another turn as he saw Jason sparring with Richard. The vice crushed inward again as he saw Jason presented to The Court. His heart broke and he dropped to his knees as the emptiness welled up inside him. "Jason," the Dark Knight whispered. 

"Father," Richard said as he walked to his father, knelt and his hand rested on his father's shoulder. "I am so sorry. I failed. I ... I couldn't save Jason."

The Duke of Kent had turned and walked down the stairs. His heart was heavy for his friend. He looked out at the raging battle. His, the Gaul's and Wayne's men had turned the tide of battle and victory was assured, but no one was the winner. He shook his head at the needless waste. The lands may very well be fractured. No noble would trust King James to rule. Unless providence provided another, all would be lost.

King James watched as Richard knelt with his father. His anger rising. James pushed Barbara from him, hoisting his sword in the air, he swung it toward Richard's back as Barbara screamed. His sword met steel and he turned to face the young knight who had joined them on the diadem.

"A rash blow ... My Father always taught me to swing straight, true and with care."

"Jason," Bruce said through a hushed voice. Slowly, he started to stand.

Richard whirled, his sword at the ready beside his brother in front of their father. "I thought you were dead."

Jason shrugged but continued addressing the king. "My liege, your enemy is not before you, but if you continue ... you will not be my liege and I will be your enemy. God will guide my sword as surely as he did when the Jester died. The princess and your honor have been avenged." He looked to his side as the blue painted Pict girl, Cassandra dumped the contents of the crimson stained bag she held and the Jester's pale head rolled out in between them.

Princess Barbara shrieked at the sight of the rolling head, turning her face to her ladies. Dinah only moved closer to the action smiling at her young knight's return.

Richard held his sword bloodied and ready. "No one else need die here, King James ... but you will not harm the Duke of Wayne or Kent. This ends now."

"Order your men to stand down, my liege," the Duke of Kent's soft words stung the king's ears as he rejoined the party on the diadem.

Richard spoke directly to the King again. His tone was firm and he met the King's gaze unwavering, "My liege, look at the chaos the damage that has been done. For the sake of all you rule, end this. If you do not, then other Nobles will seek to usurp you. From this chaos will grow the seeds of rebellion and anarchy. All will be lost." Richard's eyes briefly met Barbara's and then he continued, his head held high as his father had taught him. "I do not have your depth of knowledge Your Grace or Father's wisdom, but if you stop this – the injustice will be righted. I am certain that with the true villain dead, the Dukedom's of Wayne and Kent will once again be your strong allies bringing a strong secure Northern border. The unity would give strength to all of those who serve you and end the fracturing of the fiefdoms. The Gaul will know our strength and make sure that in his homeland, your resolve is known. My liege, my brother has returned. The Princess again stands at your side, and the villain who did so much damage is dead. Please, let this end."

The Duke of Kent glanced at Bruce's calm, determined face. He saw the pride of a Father and the strength of a noble standing with his heir. He suspected that Richard's wisdom and strength may indeed be the strength of the future ruler. Here was Providence standing before them in the form of a young knight of the House of Wayne. "Richard of Wayne speaks very well my King. Perhaps out of turn, but he speaks with the wisdom that you have always brought to us. The trickster is dead. Let this end with him and we will send troops to route the Pict's loyal to the monster."

James watched the Duke of Wayne clasp the arm of his middle son, relief radiating from his face. Then he turned behind him, his eyes fell upon his own daughter. James remembered how worried, distraught and overwrought he had been from the moment she disappeared and his heart was moved to understand Wayne's. He considered the wise words of the Duke of Kent and the young knight. His haste may have cost the lands everything and without quick action, it still may. Surely God had used his chosen messengers to return his daughter and to remind him, that while King – he was still a man. A mortal who had basked in God's glory, but was still capable of allowing pain to move him to rash action. King James could not turn his back on that or his daughter's stubborn gaze. He had made a mistake. His eyes met the Duke of Kent's. He nodded. He knew what must be done to save the lands."CEASE!" He yelled toward the battle. "CEASE FIGHTING!"

The clanging of blades slowed and then ceased. All eyes turned toward the king. The Duke of Kent held his hand palm up signaling the opposing forces to cease.

King James held his sword out to the Duke of Wayne. "I was ... wrong. " Bruce took the sword in his hands with a nod. James turned taking Barbara's hand in his, and then he turned back to Richard and Jason. "I owe you both my thanks for saving my daughter. Were I still king, I would reward you both for your bravery." He then turned to the two Dukes standing before him. "I only ask that my daughter be treated with kindness."

"Father?" Barbara asked confused. Her hand clutched at his arm.

Lord Wayne looked at Kent, then back at the king. "I have no desire for your kingdom, King James."

"Nor do I," Kent replied. "However, I understand all of our positions are rather precarious after this unpleasant disagreement. Perhaps, we need to form a new alliance. One bonding us to the King in a manner that cannot be undone. One that will consider the bloodline to the throne as well as the strength of all of our houses."

Bruce looked at his old friend and nodded, a half smile forming on his face. "Yes, that's a brilliant idea."

"What idea, father?" Richard asked. The unspoken politics between the older men was lost on him.

_The king stepped back, nodded and made the announcement to the crowd. The loyal soldiers of Wayne and Kent took the Land of the Picts under the rule of the New King and the Nobles unanimously supported the new alliance."_

_"AND?"_

"And what?"

"What happened?"

_"I told you."_

_"What was the decision and what was the new alliance?"_

_"Oh, you're a bit like the young knight Richard. He didn't understand at first either. But then King James held the lovely Princess Barbara's hand and brought it together into the hand of Sir Richard of __Wayne__. The king stepped away from them, leaving the future king and queen to wave to the cheering crowd. What began as a ceremony of death became a celebration of life. It was the beginning of their lives together and they lived happily ever after. _

_"You could've just told me that."_

_"A story must always be told with style. Leaving the listener wanting more. For while this is the end of our story for now, it is the beginning of the tale of a King who fought evil with bravery and courage."_

"Oh, I know which story that is! Tell me the story of King Richard and the Dragon."

_"Not tonight, little one. Sleep and dream happy dreams."_

_"Merlin, when I grow up, will I be as good a king as King Richard was and as brave a fighter as Duke Bruce was?"_

_"Of course you will. You shall be as grand a ruler and fighter as your great-grandfather and great-great-grandfather were. They would be proud of you, young Arthur."_

_"G'night Merlin. Tomorrow night you can tell me about Sir Richard and the Dragon and how they all lived happily ever after."_  
******  
****_THE END_**


End file.
